Take No Prisoners
by frozenpixie
Summary: L is bored. His life is monochrome, he is disillusioned with his job in the NPA, so when the fascinating criminal, Yagami Light, makes him an offer to become his partner in creating a new world, he finds himself too intrigued to refuse. AU NON-yaoi!
1. Offer

**Re-uploaded, edited, hopefully much better but still by no means perfect. I'd appreciate any comments about flaws and virtues, and I hope you enjoy reading.**

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**Chapter 1: Offer**

Hunched over his desk, doodling idly over the thick sheaf of notes before him, the dark-haired detective grabbed a fistful of gummy bears with his left hand and fed them one after another into his mouth, barely registering the flavour, chewing simply for something to do.

"Lawliet-kun?" his partner asked him, sounding slightly irate. L jerked his gummy-filled hand from his mouth and turned to squint through dark-ringed eyes at the agitated man standing before his desk.

"Yes, Aizawa-san?" he said boredly. "Is there something you wanted? I'm very busy." It was a lie. Aizawa knew it was a lie. L knew Aizawa knew. And Aizawa knew L knew he knew. And so forth. But L didn't care. The job was so mind-numbingly dull and repetitive, irking his co-workers was one of the few distractions he was afforded. Along with sweets. Lots of sweets. And cake, when he could get it. He heard Aizawa clear his throat pointedly; he had just sunk into another daydream.

"We've apprehended Aiber," Aizawa said curtly, tossing some more papers on top of L's doodles. "Chief asked if you wanted to go talk to him before he's sent away?"

"I'll do it tomorrow," L replied in a monotone, shuffling the paper to one side in order to locate his gummy bears. He saw Aizawa's lips tighten, and insolently offered the packet under his nose. AIzawa responded with a curt shake of the head.

"Aiber is a high-class con artist," Aizawa said stiffly. "He's being moved to Tokyo West tomorrow."

Tokyo West was the highest security facility in the entire of Japan, reserved only for the particular class of criminals who, for their own safety or for the safety of others, had to be locked up in the most impenetrable, elite and, if such a word could be applied to a detainment facility, prestigious, prison in Japan. The statement got the greatest spark of interest Lawliet had shown in all his five years in the station; the gummy bare paused in mid-air for approximately one second before meeting its gooey end.

"I'll go tomorrow," he repeated. "I could use a field trip."

"Chief won't like it," Aizawa sang under his breath, but he didn't venture any further opinion. Lawliet knew Aizawa didn't care if he got in trouble. He wasn't exactly popular with his co-workers, partly because he employed a certain brand of sarcasm and indifference whenever forced to address them, but mostly because he solved more cases than all four of them put together despite the fact they rarely saw him doing anything but eating sweets and daydreaming. It was a terrible burden, being a genius with nothing more challenging to do than shuffle paperwork about drug dealers and petty thieves all day. Aiber had been the most interesting case for months, yet Lawliet had managed without lifting a finger to arrange a masterful set-up, resulting in the conman falling straight into the hands of the NPA. It was so straightforward, it wasn't even fun.

The Chief may not have liked the way Lawliet did the job, but the job got done, so he rarely commented. If L wanted to disrupt the monotony of his life for once by going out to take a look at the more interesting brand of law breaker in the closest approximation to a criminal petting zoo one could find in Japan, Lawliet doubted he would care. Besides, his next week's caseload was already completed, albeit decorated with coffee-stains and spiral patterns as a result of L's vague wool-gathering of the morning.

Sometimes, L thought, it might be more interesting to be a criminal rather than a detective. At least then you could make your own cases. And what exciting ones he could come up with... whilst he occasionally enjoyed running rings around the police, he got the impression it might be a lot more fun were they not signing your paycheck every month. So much for brand loyalty.

His office hours mercifully over, L went about his equally dull evening routine. He slouched the five streets to his apartment, slouched up the four staircases, kicked open the door, which, as usual, popped out of its frame obediently; he had lost his keys about three days after he had first moved in eight years ago. He headed straight for the fridge, tossing his briefcase somewhere, where he would find it the next morning after about five minutes of apathetic hunting. He took out a half-eaten cream cake, and cut himself a large slice. He poured coffee. He added sugar. He sipped. He added more sugar. He slumped into a chair and wished fervently that he had someone else's life.

Lawliet was twenty-five years old. He had graduated top of his class, and attended the highest ranking university in Japan, where he had aced all his classes and graduated early. He had been accepted with flying colours into the fast-track of the NPA, and had made detective within six months. And he had been bored, disillusioned and depressed since he was about eight, and had realised that he could outsmart all of his teachers without even trying.

Since the age of twelve, his constant refrain had been 'when'. 'When I get to high school'; 'when I get to college'; 'when I join the police'; 'when I get promoted'. Always the next step, he had hoped, would bring him the stimulation he desired, would bring him the challenges he craved. And every time he had been bitterly disappointed. At the age of twenty-one, barely a few months into his chosen career, it had slowly begun to dawn on his exceptional mind that it was never going to happen. His colleagues were as slow and dim-witted as his college classmates had been, as his schoolteachers had been. As everyone, it seemed, who had entered his life and fallen away like wet cake, had been, and ever would be. And just a year ago, his last shred of hope had disappeared into the ether as the one friend who had ever given his life the slightest semblance of colour had died. No, not died, committed suicide. Ever since then, L had been a robot, mechanically going through the motions day after day, seeing no point in anything.

A had been a friend, of sorts. They had met in school, and gone to college together, both aiming for law enforcement careers, although A at the instigation of his parents rather than from personal desire. A had been intelligent. Not in the same league as L, of course, but clever enough to provide some sort of companionship for him, some meagre competition. Perhaps a cockroach, instead of an ant. Possibly even a vaguely amusing puppy. But they had gotten on fairly well, and L had been glad of any little companionship along his dull, lonely route through the turgid backwaters of life.

But then A had found Beyond. Beyond, who was worse than poison for the oversensitive, highly strung man. Beyond, who had challenged somebody who was never meant to be challenged. Beyond had seduced A, and had made his life impossible, flaunting his disrespect for the law before his lover and forcing him again and again to submit to him, to turn a blind eye, to choose him over his hard-won career. Poor A. The pressure had been too much, and he was never up to playing the game. And L, L who had despised Beyond, but who had never been close enough to A to merit intervention, or interested enough to be tempted to intervene, had not bothered to do anything until it was too late, and A's corpse was found hanging from the staircase of his apartment complex. It had killed the last little belief within L's heart that life held anything but monotony, boredom, pain and injustice. His capture of Beyond was not revenge. It wasn't justice. It wasn't even personal. It was automatic. Not a challenge. Not even if he pretended. He simply couldn't find the will to care. So Beyond's imprisonment had been and gone, and with him was locked away any feelings L might once have possessed. A cynical, highly intelligent robot was left in place of the promising young genius. Not that anyone noticed or cared. He got the job done and kept to himself. There was nobody, not even A, to stir him out of his life-long funk or vary the bland, endless evenings. And that was well and good, L thought bitterly, since he had not been there when A had needed him. And at least he drowned his sorrows in sugar, not alcohol.

Maybe he should consider a switch. Alcohol might kill him sooner. Not that he wanted to die, but life was so futile. It must be, if the prospect of visiting the high-security prison was something to be excited about. Not that he was excited. Mildly less bored to tears than usual might be more accurate.

L drove himself to Tokyo West at ten the next morning. No point in getting up too early. Hours spent sleeping were hours not spent wishing life would go faster. Not that L did much sleeping; insomnia had dogged him since the age of fifteen, and although he knew the roots were deeply psychological, there were few things he enjoyed less than the prospect of spilling his turgid soul to a psychiatrist. And L enjoyed very few things at all. No, he just stared at the ceiling and wondered how dark the bags under his eyes would be the next day when he finally pulled himself out of his comfortless bed.

The high stone building reared its ugly head over the horizon, the swaying sakura trees and the tumbling blossoms an ironic contrast to the dark concrete and sightless windows wrapped with bars.

"Aiber," he shot at the man guarding the front, and was taken in through the winding labyrinth of stone corridors – labyrinth to somebody without his IQ, in any case; he could have navigated them with ease. He was brought to a halt outside a cell, luxurious by most standards, consisting of an actual door as opposed to merely bars. A hatch was slid open.

"Aiber. Visitor," the guard said curtly. Not waiting for a reply, he let L enter. The cell was largish, carpeted in dark green, with two twin beds and even a sofa and coffee table, although all the furniture was bolted to the ground. A bookshelf to one side was filled with books. Dozens, hundreds, possibly, heavy volumes, old and new, fiction and non-fiction. A collection which would have taken far more than a day to become so swollen and varied.

"Yours?" he asked the powerfully built blond doubtfully, the man he had caught where nobody else had managed, and still been bored.

"His," Aiber smirked, jerking a thumb to his roommate, whose face was buried in a thick volume, his long legs stretched over one of the beds, clad in orange dungarees, the standard outfit of the gaol. "Jerk does nothing but read. Hasn't said a word to me since I got here last night."

"Perhaps he has nothing to say," L remarked boredly, and was sure he heard a soft snort from behind the volume. He scanned the spine for a title; Milton. What sort of criminal read poetry?

"So you want to ask me where I buried the treasure?" Aiber quipped, flopping onto the sofa, all cock and arrogance. L sighed and his eyes rose heavenwards. He really had nothing to say to the man. He wasn't worth the visit. But there was nothing better to do, so...

"I know where the money is, Aiber-san," he sighed. He watched Aiber's eyes widen before he regained control of his face and hitched up a smirk.

"Oh yeah?" he sneered. "Then why ain't you taken it back? Added it to my list of charges?"

"Because," L said boredly. Aliber snorted.

"You're bluffing. Can't even do it right," he mocked.

"No, I am merely not a monster. My troll-witted colleagues are too slow to ever find it, and I have decided to leave it where it is because it would hardly be any better off in the hands of the fatcats it started with. I don't take candy from children, Aiber-san, and nor am I inclined to retract money from a wife and son who will no longer have the luxury of a father, however absent he was."

It was a shame, really. L could not even take any pleasure in his own brilliance, or the fear and shock which flitted across Aiber's face."

"Y-you won't tell?" he croaked.

"Oh look, a confession," L sighed. "That was foolish, Aiber-san. But no, I won't tell. Where, after all, is the point? It would possibly get you the sympathy of a jury, knowing the money was for your wife and terminally ill son, and a criminal such as yourself deserves no reprieve."

"T-thank you," Aiber stuttered. L grimaced.

"Don't thank me. I didn't do it for you," he said flatly. "The world is rotten enough as it is without detectives doing favours for criminals. I did it purely for my own amusement. The police are so thick-witted they did not manage to piece together the clues, and they never will. They don't deserve to recover the money when it may actually do some good where it is. I am terribly sorry, Aiber-san, for the fate of your son. But not for your fate. After all, you did it for pleasure, yourself not them, didn't you? A man of your skills could have made something of himself."

"Aiber! Exercise time. Yagami, your turn's in an hour," the guard called from outside, depriving L of a response, not that it bothered him what the criminal had to say. Aiber, a broken man with L's few short sentences, got shakily to his feet and left with the guards. Sighing softly to himself, L turned to follow, but a movement caught his eyes, and he turned.

The other occupant of the room, whom he had forgotten completely, was contemplating him with amusement written all over his remarkably handsome features. His honey-brown hair was perfect, against all odds, his complexion flawless, and his sepia eyes glittering with a cool, hard intelligence which sent a shiver of an emotion so rusty L could not place it coursing through his veins. Even his slightly unpleasant smirk was perfect. He hardly looked like a prisoner.

"Can I help you?" L asked sarcastically.

"I hope so," the man said, and his voice was like warm resin. Another shudder of strange feeling followed the first. "You're a detective? Then you must know who I am." It wasn't a question.

"Should I?" L asked blithely, eyes straying up and down the elegant, long-legged figure. He was thinner than was quite healthy, collarbones and cheekbones jutting slightly. So imprisonment had affected him after all. It only added to his striking features.

"Oh, I should hope so," the man laughed softly to himself. "I hold quite a few records within the police, but from your own account that isn't saying much. They are quite useless, ne?"

"They caught you," L pointed out. The man laughed again.

"And it took them long enough," he said smugly. "Eleven years, to be precise, and four nationalities working together, including the FBI."

Eleven years? L frowned slightly. The man was more like a boy. He didn't look a day above twenty. Which would have to have made him nine, at the oldest, at the start of his criminal career.

"What are you in for?" he asked despite himself. He was beginning to recognise this new emotion, curiosity, even if the pulse-racing, heart-thrumming one remained elusive.

"Yagami Light?" the boy tried. "No, perhaps you don't know the name. How about... Kira? Does that name mean more to you?"

"Kira..." L tasted the word. The legend. The God of Justice, as he had been called by some even within the police. The mysterious murderer of criminals, the thief of hearts. Yes. Eleven years sounded about right for his reign. There had been rumours that it was a gang, a number of people within the police itself committing the righteous crimes. Men and women, all ex-cons for whom conclusive evidence was as elusive as winter sunshine in the North Pole, killed with a heart carved on the left side of their chest. The calling card of Kira. But the killings, if he remembered correctly, had ceased almost two years ago.

"You're too young to be Kira," he dismissed.

"Is that right?" Yagami Light mocked. "Perhaps you're just as dim as the rest of them, then."

"How could a seven year old child commit those sorts of crimes?" L asked sceptically.

"I never said I was the first Kira," Light said mysteriously. "And I never told you my age. But I was flawless in what I did. A god, you might say."

"I don't recall you being caught," L said flatly.

"Before your time?" Light teased. "Or beyond your reach? It was all kept very quiet."

"Is there a point to this conversation?" L asked with a sigh.

"Is there a point to anything?" Light asked mockingly. "You barely seem to think so. And I am of similar opinion. I'm dead in two weeks." He mimed a finger across his throat. "They don't take kindly to being duped, the NPA."

"Was that a threat?" L asked interestedly. He couldn't determine whether Yagami was referring to L's trickery in dealing with his superiors, or with his own.

"I heard enough for it to be," Light said casually. "But actually I hoped I might have found a kindred spirit." He leaned forwards conspiratorially, eyes glittering. "I'm too good to waste."

"Are you suggesting I help you out of here?" L asked, highly diverted for the first time in years. "What could I possibly do?"

"I thought you were intelligent," Light sighed. "We could make a great team, you and I. A new justice."

"No," L said flatly.

"You didn't even ask what I had in mind," Light said, mock-hurt.

"I already said I didn't make deals with criminals," L replied stonily.

"Unless it suits your own sense of justice," Light cajoled. "And you and I using our considerable joint intellects to confound the police and beat them at their own game... doesn't that even taste a little sweet to you?"

"I've eaten a lot of sugar in my life," L replied sourly. "It hasn't made it any less bitter."

"Deep," Light smirked. "But you didn't deny it. You're bored. Perhaps, you think life isn't worth living? Then why not take a chance and make it better? Have somebody worth your time...do something worth the effort it takes to get out of bed every morning."

How was this boy so alluring? How did he know what L was thinking, how he felt? Recklessness, curiosity, interest... they were all things L had not felt for so long. Perhaps he did crave something more potent, more challenging, and if this boy was what he claimed, then he himself was a mystery worth the time to unravel. Add an intriguing proposal to form an alliance, and...

"What," L asked cautiously, "Did you have in mind?"


	2. Fascination

**Chapter 2: Fascination**

Lawliet drove back home in silence, not bothering to switch his radio on; upbeat chat shows and jaunty music both gave him a headache. The mindless drone of traffic was a familiar and tedious background noise which he easily drowned out with his thoughts. Pulling up in the basement parking lot, he slouched his way up to his apartment as usual, but ignored the fridge in favour of pulling up his laptop. His fingers hovered over the keys for a fraction of a second before he bit the bullet and proceeded to hack into the NPA's confidential files. It was not something he did often, although he was well able to do so without being traced. Usually, he held back out of some respect for the force he was a part of. And, of course, because of the extreme apathy which caused him to care very little about the secrets of the NPA. Today, though, it was different. Today he had a purpose in mind, and the NPA were going to help him out. Firewalls circumnavigated with absurd ease, Lawliet's fingers caressed the keyboard again.

_Yagami Light,_he wrote. And hit enter.

Seventeen results. He clicked on the first.

Immediately a picture flashed up on his crummy screen, scratched and scored with years of rough treatment and stained with unknowable substances, permanent flecks of tea and cake, a testament to his addictions. The picture was indisputably the young man he had spoken to in the gaol. Here he was younger, face fuller, eyes wider. Innocent eyes, Lawliet found himself thinking. These were eyes which had not seen violence or death, eyes which had not shielded shadowy thoughts and plans. Nevertheless, they held the same sparkle of intelligence, and the same cool shrewdness. The young man was wearing a school uniform. Lawliet glanced at the date; 11th October 2004; five years ago. His eyes flickered downwards to the man's date of birth – February 28th 1986. So Yagami was eighteen in the photograph; if he was Kira, as he claimed, then he had already committed dozens of murders by this time. Lawliet studied the eyes again. Wide, clear and honest. He couldn't see anything out of place for an eighteen year old in them, unless you counted that shimmer of intelligence, and L knew his own eyes had been wise beyond his years long before the age of eighteen. Either he was not who he said, or he was a chillingly good actor.

Let's see... if Yagami had been born in 1986, that made him 23 now, barely 2 years younger than Lawliet himself. Perhaps it was the fragility born of his slightly underweight figure which made him look so much younger than his years, or simply his smooth, stubble-free face. Lawliet discarded the irrelevant thoughts and skimmed down the page to find out more about the man. Date of arrest: 12th July 2006. He had been twenty years old when he had been imprisoned. Just twenty. And the sentence had been for life. No, that was wrong, L realised as he read further. Six months into his sentence, it had been altered; Yagami Light had been transferred to death row.

Lawliet was too absorbed to notice the fact that he was absorbed, something monumentally abnormal for the typically listless detective. But Yagami Light was fascinating, a dark enigma enshrouded in a shadowed riddle. Simply his background alone contrasted with his status, rotting in a high security cell and waiting to die. He had top marks, dating right back to when he started school. He had been on the honour roll at college without fail, and had graduated early with grades which matched L's own, in itself almost an impossible feat, since L's every score had been perfect. He had been tennis champion at high school – also a feat L had accomplished. He had had ambitions to join the police, too, which Lawliet found highly ironic... but his father had been a chief of police – retired, now, after his son had been captured. A family profession? Or a personal desire, for whatever reason?

L sought further information, information on the case against Yagami Light. Why had he been arrested? How? He returned to the search engine results and clicked on the case file. What he read reeled him in hook, line and sinker. How had he missed this case? But of course, he had not cared enough to follow the case. The climax had taken place during one of _those times,_one of the weeks where L would spiral into such a black pit of depression that nothing on earth could drag him from his bed for days at a time. At the time of the arrest, he had probably been lying on his back in week-old clothes, hair and body unwashed, bathed in the scents of sweat and decay, staring at the cracks in the ceiling and waiting for death. Such episodes had been common to him a few years back. Now, he was almost sure that his entire life consisted of nothing but one long episode of depression and futility, but at the very least it also included cake and arbitrary social interaction.

But back to Yagami Light. Lawliet read the case against him with great interest, making his way steadily through every fact, every fragment he could find. It was interesting, in the most part, because it made no sense at all. There were massive gaps, gaping holes in the evidence, things that just didn't fit, and things left totally unexplained. The only thing that had earned Yagami Light a one way ticket to hell, it seemed, was his confession, out of the blue, and his presentation of a slim black notebook containing the names of every person he had apparently killed, along with their manner of death. With such evidence, and no other leads, the police had jumped on the confession. No wonder his defence lawyer, Teru Mikami, had had a hard time spinning the case out for longer than it took for twelve men and women to jot the word _guilty _on their little slips of paper.

But it made no sense. Even with the confession, it was obvious that Yagami Light had not committed the crimes for which he was convicted. Within seconds of imbibing the information at his disposal, L had spotted several insurmountable lacunae:

The deaths recorded in the notebook began in 1996, at which point Yagami Light had been ten years old.

The Kira killings had continued until the spring of 2007, at which point Yagami Light was already in prison.

It had not been the police who had found Yagami Light, but Yagami Light who had handed himself coolly over to the police and declared his own guilt, seemingly with no prompting.

This was without even going into the details of each specific murder, comparing what the supposed perpetrator had been doing at the time; the boy had alibis for over half of them, for christ's sake!

So L was fascinated, but utterly confused. And it was unlike him ever to be confused, since life rarely held any intellectual challenges which could stump him.

But even through the dimness, illumination – light, hah – hit. Yagami Light was fully aware that the case was one which would intrigue Lawliet. He knew that it made no sense, and perhaps the strange young man held the answers himself. Perhaps, through closer acquaintance, Lawliet might be able to coax them from him, or better yet, unravel them himself. Yagami Light was a challenge worthy of his intellect. At long last, could it be possible that Lawliet's chance had finally come to employ his considerable faculties on something worthwhile?

And the price... Lawliet weighed the price in his mind, rolling it from side to side. Yagami had never said he was innocent. In fact, he had implied that he was as guilty as sin, and his eyes told Lawliet that there sat not a blameless youth. No man on death row could smile like that unless they had a secret brilliance branded into their heart. No innocent man could sail to his fate with such equanimity. Not that he had accepted his fate, it seemed. The young man was still thinking, still planning his ticket out of there. Although he could not have anticipated Lawliet's visit, surely. Perhaps just a very skilful opportunist, then. A good reader of character. And the price was something L could live with. He lived with it every day. Betrayal... it was a word he was familiar with, and which had long ago lost its sting.

If he helped Yagami Light to escape, he would be aiding a criminal. Breaking the law. Betraying the NPA. But it was nothing he had not done before, in minor, untraceable, beneficial ways. Beneficial to him, beneficial to his beliefs of right and wrong. The continued mystery of a few hundred thousand pounds stolen from corporate bigwigs, for example, was not something he would lose sleep over if it meant a little boy could die in comfort and his bereft mother could afford to grieve in peace and start a fresh life. The occasional piece of incriminating evidence which mysteriously went missing when Lawliet knew but could not prove that a suspect was innocent, or at the very least just in their crime, or the mysterious appearance of concrete proof when Lawliet felt somebody deserved to go down, was again all in the line of duty. It was corruption, of course, or would have been if it were anybody but him doing it. But he happened to have a highly developed sense of justice which occasionally required the bending of rules set for people who could not think for themselves. Lawliet was well aware that this boiled down to 'It's ok to do it because it's me', but nevertheless he felt no remorse. Because it was him. And of course he was right.

If he helped Yagami Light to escape, though, he might well be freeing a mass murderer simply to sate his own curiosity.

But then again, it was a game which Lawliet was capable of playing. At no point would he be out of control. He could dictate exactly what Yagami would and would not be allowed to do, and he was not exactly going to allow him to go on a casual killing spree in the streets of Tokyo. No, it was under his control. A partnership, building a new world together... Yagami had not elaborated on his suggestions, but for a man convicted of killing criminals, and the son of a police chief, conspicuously intelligent, Lawliet understood him to mean... justice. L was confident that Yagami's sense of justice might in fact be fairly close to his own. Instinct, perhaps, told him that he could be, if not trusted, then at least untrustworthy in a way that L could cope with, in a way he could manipulate. And L would receive, he hoped, more in return for his side of the bargain than simply a stimulating and mutually beneficial partnership. L would get front-seat privileges in unravelling the mystery of the Kira case. Unravelling the mystery that was Yagami Light. That was what he truly desired. And L would by no means let his guard down, or see Yagami as anything but what he was... that was, as soon as he discovered what exactly that was. He smirked idly to himself as the phrase 'taking no prisoners' drifted through his mind. Uncompromising, it meant. Unbending. Ruthless. Even by entertaining the notion of helping Yagami out of his sticky situation, he was giving in to compromise, taking things on faith.

But it did no good to tell himself these things.

What was it the man had said? Lawliet remembered the exact words. He remembered the soft pink lips from which they had sprung forth, curled ever so slightly with a cunning smile, moist with tantalising victory hanging almost within his reach.

"All I need is for the power to fail for a half hour span. I'll be ready any time. At any moment. Just that, nothing else. All I need is darkness."

It was said for effect, more than anything, Lawliet thought to himself. What he was asking for was far more than simple darkness. He was asking for total power failure for a thirty minute slot in one of the most highly manned, restricted access buildings in the entire of Japan. He was asking for the surveillance system to collapse, the locks to disengage, communication to die, the automatic defences to fail and for utter darkness to shroud the facility for thirty minutes. It would take more than a technical genius to provide such a thing. It would take a cunning and forwards-thinking planner to anticipate the reactions of the guards once the power went down, somebody with a detailed knowledge of the security methods in place, and somebody who could not only accomplish the steep task, but maintain the situation for a stretch of time, undetected.

And L also knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he could, and would do it. In two days time he could gather all the information he needed, and execute the plan perfectly. The rest was up to Yagami. But in his tired, rotten, _long_existence, Lawliet had never wanted anything quite so much as he wanted Yagami Light. He was willing to gamble the last fragment of his soul on the exchange, because if he did, instead of just living, he might actually get to be alive.


	3. A New World

**Chapter 3: A New World**

L's fork stabbed viciously into the slab of tiramisu on the plate before him. He was cold, jumpy, and seriously doubting his own sanity. The cake, for once, was not aiding his cognitive abilities even remotely.

He was sitting in the corner of a rather classy patisserie, no doubt looking the paragon of disreputability in his dark, scruffy coat, sleeves too short, exhibiting baggy white cuffs of his long-sleeved t-shirt underneath, one cuff stained with something which he hoped was coffee. The dark cap pushed over his shock of hair didn't do much to recommend him, either. If he had to put a description to himself, which he was understandably reluctant to do, he would say he looked like the exact type of criminal element he was about to meet with.

Yes, that was the source of his extreme discomfort within the warm, pleasant cafe. He was waiting to meet a fugitive. Knowing Yagami, which he didn't, he hardly expected the man to show up wild-eyed and twitching, still clad in his orange prison dungarees, but it was hardly his usual style, meeting in an open area with a wanted man, unless he was the one holding the handcuffs delicately between thumb and forefinger with a team of goons – co-workers, sorry – to back him up. Still, he was rather hoping that, despite evidence to the contrary, a leopard would be able to change his spots. He was very much hoping that he was not responsible for setting loose a murderer. Or at least not one whose homicidal tendencies were likely to resurface with a vengeance the moment he was sprung.

It had been so easy, that was the disconcerting thing. It had hardly felt like a crime. Just last night, he had achieved what should have been an incredibly difficult feat, and had even felt able to add his own twist to the event, playing a message only Yagami, who would know exactly what was going on, would be able to understand. Ingenious, if he did say so himself. Thus his current position, waiting for Yagami to join him for coffee barely a few miles from the prison, had come about. And his jumpiness was understandable, since there was a finite chance that somebody else in the godforsaken dump had enough brain cells to work out the hints he had weaved into the random, disjointed phrases he had strung together and broadcast across the compound the night before. A paper-trail led indirectly to this very shop, and L was 83% certain that Yagami would have been the first to pick up the clues, thus erasing the trail for any latecomers. He was perfectly safe, the more so for being so close to the lion's den, but he was nevertheless uncharacteristically tense. And now was not the time to be second-guessing himself. He almost wished that Yagami's intelligence would disappoint him, that he wouldn't be able to follow L's clues to this place. Then he could write off the entire foolhardy deal and simply recapture the man as if nothing had happened between them.

"A black coffee, please, and a raspberry Danish," a deep, honeyed voice ordered from across the room. L's head jerked up as if a puppeteer had just pulled his strings. So much for that hope. The voice was unmistakeable. As was the hair. The perfectly groomed hair, which he had not so much as covered. What arrogance. He had no fear whatsoever about being captured. L wanted to curse him for a fool, but even he was almost taken in by the warmth, the confidence exuding from the young man, the paragon of innocence and charm. Instead of faulting his lack of caution, he almost found himself admiring the potency of his act; nobody would consider for one second that here stood a criminal escaped from death row. And a part of L felt excited that the man's intellect had guided him here, and that a worthy adversary or partner was now nonchalantly approaching his table.

"Is this seat taken?" the young man mocked, cool eyes dancing, a smirk just barely ghosting his thin face as he drew to a halt in front of L's secluded table. L gestured, a little brusquely, for him to sit. He did so, elegantly smoothing his crisp white shirt over his dark jeans and crossing those long, slender legs of his, the picture of relaxation.

"Don't you want to hear how I did it?" he boy asked, eyes still glittering with amusement as L continued prodding his dessert, not speaking to his companion.

"I want to know how you did many things, Yagami-kun," L said darkly. "Last night is not one of them. It hardly matters, really."

"How dull," Light pretended to pout, perfect lips pressed together briefly before he laughed softly. "I was hoping somebody could appreciate my work. The police surely won't."

"I do not generally commend criminal activity," L said stiffly. Light laughed again. Snickered might be more apt, actually.

"You must be hating yourself right now, then," he taunted. His expression made L want to hit him. He didn't like being made fun of, especially by the person he had just sold his soul for. But he supposed he had walked into that one; his mental skills had grown thick with cobwebs over the past years. He would have to work hard to make sure that he maintained the upper hand at all times.

"I didn't do it for you," he said in a monotone. Light's smirk grew more pronounced.

"Oh, I know," he said gleefully. "You did it because you couldn't help yourself. I was more than you could resist."

"You think a lot of yourself, Yagami-kun," L said, letting his disgust colour his voice just a little. "Did it occur to you that I still hold a lot of the cards?" It was time to wipe the smirk from his flawless lips.

"Only the ones I don't want," Light dismissed carelessly. "I could disappear tonight and not even you could find me again, Detective-san."

Instead of getting under L's skin as it was clearly meant to, this comment made L's lips curl into a small grin of victory.

"Detective-san?" he asked smugly. "The great genius criminal does not even know my name? How many cards do you really think you hold?"

But Light was still smiling, too.

"All the good ones," he rejoined. "I hold all the answers you so desperately want. I hold the danger and the excitement you crave. I hold the key to your future, Detective-san. I know _you_, I don't need to know your name. And I know you're far too curious about me to let me melt out of sight, so you will happily adhere to my few minor requests."

"Then perhaps both of us hold some power over the other," L acknowledged, not bothering to lie to the man about how deeply curious he was about his past; Yagami already knew beyond a shadow of doubt. "But you have nothing to blackmail me with. Even if I do choose to divulge my name, it will do you no good. I am not afraid of consequences, Yagami-kun. The question is, are you ready to die?"

L thought Light's eyes might have widened just a fraction at his words. Perhaps he had not been counting on L's absolute lack of concern about being implicated in his escape. Of course, L was bluffing a little, not eager to be caught breaking the law, but he was a good actor, and any psychological advantages he could establish over Light at this stage would be extremely useful. They both held a gun to each other's throats, but Light didn't need to know that L's still had the safety on.

"Oh?" Light asked lightly, voice only slightly guarded. L pushed his advantage.

"Yagami-kun has nothing to threaten me with," L went on. "What would you do, tell my colleagues I helped you? They would not believe you, because there is proof, if I choose to divulge it, that we met for the first time just a few days ago, not nearly enough time for anyone to assist in an escape attempt, from their perspective, at least. Secondly, I doubt they would perceive a motive for me to help you when I hold the highest record for criminal capture in the entire NPA. I am far too good at my job to be under suspicion, and you, Light-kun, are notorious for being manipulative, a confidence-trickster, even.

"Therefore you hold little power over me, as of now, and if I choose to extend our relationship, I daresay the cards will be changing hands somewhat too rapidly for this to be a further issue. And if by any chance you were able to incriminate me, I still have nothing to lose, since I have nothing. You are an amusement, nothing more, to me, do not forget it. That is all you hold over me. My curiosity is the only thing keeping you alive.

"And if you chose to kill me, if you could, which I doubt, you would have severed your greatest chance of redemption. And I really do not think you will have failed to consider the possibility that I have left a contingency plan in the event of your treachery which will have you back on death row before you can blink."

"Well, I don't plan on either of us going down just yet," Light replied casually, masking his surprise at L's speech effortlessly. "There's still plenty to be done before that happens."

"Such as?" L enquired, beginning to work through his dessert instead of merely abusing it. Having said his piece and seen its effect, he was willing to discuss the potential benefits of his actions.

"Well, I rather like the idea of sending the police into a bit of a panic," Light mused. "I believe I have already laid a pretty effective groundwork, but I would like your input."

"I refuse to commit crimes to the detriment of the police force," L said flatly. "The police may be useless, but they stand for justice. To discredit them would be counterproductive, and to break the law would be to encourage anarchy."

"You misunderstand," Light contradicted, amused. "I don't want anarchy. I don't want a collapse of justice. Quite the contrary. I just want to show the police how ineffective they are against criminals by creating a superior organisation."

"Go on," L invited tonelessly as Light paused to watch the effect of his words. He was favouring the young man with the look which always made colleagues and criminals alike shift in their seats, wide eyes trained intensely upon the sepia ones in front of him. It did not discomfit his companion in the slightest. Light grinned widely.

"Well, we can discuss that a little later," Light dismissed, casually refusing to let L lead the conversation. "We have the rest of our lives, after all, to establish an effective partnership. When I said I wished to send the police into a panic, I meant in the much more immediate sense, the groundwork being, of course, my astounding escape."

"Causing a sensation out of your escape will only make your face more notorious," L argued with equal dismissiveness. "It is foolish and narcissistic. You would be much wiser to make it seem as if you have left the country, or better still, fake your own death."

"I was fairly certain that your intellect was of a high level when we met," Light said thoughtfully, "but you seem to be jumping to a lot of conclusions tonight, Detective-san. Incidentally, can I have a name? A false one will suffice, I just wish for something to call you by."

"Ryuuzaki," L bit out, thinking of the first name which popped into his head. It was a name nobody close to him used, and therefore perfect. If he had used Aizawa, for example, it would have been distracting to him, as the image conjured each time he heard it would be of the big-haired detective.

"Well, Ryuuzaki," Light replied, enunciating the name mockingly, "I have already arranged matters so that it seems as if I am on my way to Osaka, and I should conveniently die in a car accident being chased by half the Japanese police in around twenty minutes. I don't doubt that you will receive a call from your station at some point during the course of the evening. My details are already released I presume?"

"To all stations, yes, to the general public, luckily not," L replied briefly. "Or you would have had far more difficulty in sauntering in here."

"I learned quite a bit about confidence trickery during my career, as you kindly observed," Light demurred. "Appear innocent and people will believe you to be so. The girl at the counter won't in a million years suspect my true identity even if the police come in and ask her if anyone of my description came in."

"You seem very sure of yourself," L said suspiciously, believing the arrogant youth not at all. "You have a memorable face, Yagami-kun."

"And all she will remember is that a handsome, charming, well-dressed gentleman came in for a coffee," Light said confidently. "If they asked her anything, she would automatically try to remember anyone suspicious. She is far more likely to remember you, Ryuuzaki, than me." L scowled; the man was probably right, and it was an unpleasant feeling. An area in which he was greatly lacking, he knew, was his people skills. Yagami Light seemed to possess all the things in which he was deficient. It made it difficult for L to warm to him, but it made him more fascinating by the second.

"How do you trust your plan will succeed?" demanded L, unwilling to be sidetracked by his deductions from the matter at hand. "The police are not entirely stupid. When they find that the body is not yours, they will realise they have been tricked."

"They will catch sight of my face before the crash, and with positive identification and a corpse, there will be no need for DNA identification," Light explained. "I paid an acquaintance of mine to stage a chase for a considerable reward, and his appearance has been altered to resemble me well enough to fit the description being given; we were very similar to begin with. He will be driving a car taken from the area directly around the prison, and he will be picked up by routine traffic police for speeding, at which point he will initiate a chase, allowing them to catch his face beforehand. The police will put together the stolen car and the description and think it is me, and when the car crashes, they will assume I am dead."

"This associate of yours is willing to die for you?" L asked, looking faintly disturbed. He was certainly not dealing with a fool, but he was not dealing with a nice person, either. This man was filth through and through if he could so ruthlessly use his companions as pawns. L would have to be doubly on his guard.

"Oh yes," Light replied dismissively. "Quite a few people are willing to die for Kira, and even more for Yagami Light. But I will not allow him to die. He is a highly skilled associate of mine, and very adept at such stunts. The corpse belongs to whichever poor sap had vaguely the same build as me and could be nabbed from inside a coffin without his absence being noticed. My associate will lose the cops, put the body in the driver's seat and initiate an undetectable automatic explosive before leaving the immediate area. The police will see the explosion and get to the area, by which time Yagami Light will be dead."

"It has too many variables," was all L said. He noticed that Light had not once used the word 'friend' in referring to the man who was working for him. He was staying alive out of convenience, not out of compassion.

"But it has been planned down to a T," Light replied nonchalantly. "It won't go wrong. I trust my man to do it well."

"Who is your man?" L asked, although he doubted he would receive a straight answer. "Another criminal? Anyone I might know?"

"A criminal? I suppose so," Light shrugged. "He doesn't live completely within the law, anyway. But he's a good man. One of the best."

"You confuse me, Yagami-kun," L replied, although he was not nearly as perplexed as he was making out. "If you have so many friends willing to help you, why did you need my assistance?"

"I didn't, really," Light shrugged. "I was going to have Matt – the car man, but don't get excited, it's just a pseudonym – get me out, since he's an ace hacker, too. But I thought you fit the profile I was looking for, and I don't have a man on the inside. It was a test, and you passed. Congratulations."

Light was mocking him. L disliked the man more and more with each passing moment, but with each passing moment he became more and more intriguing. He gave the impression of having a vast network of sources and associates, and of being completely in control of them. How had he managed to run such a diverse network from inside the highest security prison in Japan? And how had he managed to execute not only a flawless escape, but also a carefully planned follow-up? And how, L added to himself, had he procured good clothes and at least petty cash less than twenty-four hours after escaping, and turned up well groomed and spotless only miles from the prison? Not to mention he had managed to pass L's own tests with seemingly very little effort. There was something exceptional about him, no doubt.

"If you think I'm going to work for you," he shot at the smirking man, adamant to straighten out this misconception as soon as he could, "your own intelligence is significantly less than you appear to think it."

"Jumping to conclusions again," Light mocked, unscathed by L's venomous words. "I rather wish to work with you. As I suggested, a partnership. Most of my associates are useful, in their own ways, and they are mostly good men, and some of them I even consider friends. But none of them share completely my ideals, my vision for justice. But when you, Ryuuzaki, came into my prison cell and executed pure justice without mercy and without personal gain, I recognised another person who thinks that this world is rotten. And I recognised somebody with an intelligence far superior to that of the common stock. I want not another worker, but a partner. I believe you have a lot you could offer me. And I know I have a lot to offer you.

"What do you say? Do you want to help me build a new world?"


	4. Righteousness

**Chapter 4: Righteousness**

"I cannot say that I am particularly thrilled with this arrangement myself, Yagami-kun," said L for the fifth time as Light yet again voiced his distaste at some fitting or fixture in L's apartment. This time, it was the constant dripping of the kitchen tap which had received the disparaging assessment from the young man, hot on the heels of the malfunctioning door, the dingy wallpaper, the grotty floorboards, the mismatched furniture and the utter lack of anything remotely healthy in the fridge. "But I am unwilling to let you out from under my scrutiny, and if we are to work together, it would be prudent to be within easy reach of each other."

"Then I would suggest that you get something done about this place," snarked Light. "I have yet to find anything which performs its proper function."

"The bed," L said flatly. Anyone else would have been unsure whether he was joking or not, with his immobile expression and his deadened voice, but Light bit out a snort of unamused laughter.

"I take it I won't be able to appreciate the wonderfully effective bed," he said bitterly. "Since there's only one."

"You can have the bed," L shrugged. "I don't sleep much."

"Everyone needs to sleep," Light said sceptically.

"But not everyone can," L replied simply. "I won't sleep any worse on the sofa than on the bed."

"Then apparently the bed does not perform its proper function effectively," Light smirked. L felt like hitting the man, not for the first time.

"If you continue to be so insulting of my hospitality, I shall revoke the offer," he snapped. Light shrugged.

"Is there at least some coffee in the house?" he asked. L nodded tersely, and went to the kitchen to start a pot. Although most of his appliances and furniture were of the cheapest and most unattractive sort, his kitchen was well stocked with cake and chocolate, some of it very expensive or exotic, and his coffee brand was of the non-instant, imported variety. Even Light looked impressed at the steaming brew as its fragrant scent curled upwards in a delicate spiral of steam.

"Coffee pot," L said flatly, referring to Light's earlier comment. Light, of course, understood his meaning immediately, and nodded his concession.

"Although it is almost eleven in the evening," L interjected as Light sipped his drink. "Shouldn't you be thinking about going to sleep?"

"Caffeine won't keep me up," Light shrugged. "Anyway, if you are an insomniac, you shouldn't have any issues with my sleeping habits, irregular or otherwise."

"I don't want to disrupt your usual routine," L said, although truth be told he did not really care what Light did.

"Well I am not tired yet," dismissed Light. "And we have much to discuss. I would like to begin right away, if you are amenable?"

"Certainly, Yagami-kun," L conceded, his thoughts similarly directed. "I believe we have come to the conclusion that our views on justice are undoubtedly very similar." They had. They had talked in the cafe until they had been politely informed the shop would be closing, the mismatched pair drawing curious glances from the young worker. "However, whilst I have been content to let the rest of the world do whatever it chooses up until now, it seems that you have greater aspirations. I would like to hear about these in more detail." And therefore find out more about your personality, Kira.

"Well," Light drawled, stretching out his long, dark-clad legs as he finished his coffee, "I believe you are already well aware of the aims of Kira; to kill all those criminals who escaped normal justice. However, this is not the way in which I would have originally chosen to exact punishment. Death is so messy, so vulgar."

"Yet you killed people, Light-kun, with those very hands," L interrupted, staring penetratingly into the younger man's face. Not so much as a flicker in the relaxed expression. "As I recall, that was what you originally chose."

"I have had a lot of time to refine my views," Light continued, ignoring the interruption completely. "Why is it that so many criminals escape justice? Why is it that so many people are allowed out to kill again? Are the police so corrupt that they will allow murders to walk free simply for a few years of good behaviour?" The latter was a barb directed at L, but he did not let the irritation show in his expression as he continued to listen to the arrogant youth.

"I have come to the conclusion," continued Light, "that the police are to blame. The weaknesses in our own system of justice are at fault, and this is where we need to begin, to ensure a world in which criminals are punished for their crimes."

"That is what the police are _for_, Yagami-kun," said L blandly, mostly to irritate.

"Then why do so many criminals walk free?" asked Light. "I'll tell you; it is because the police are too lazy or too incompetent to do their job properly. It is because they are too soft on criminals, too unwilling to be firm with them. It is people like us, Ryuuzaki, who need to take the law into our own hands and achieve justice where others are too weak, too base to understand what true justice is."

"But what you have just described is mob justice, Yagami-kun," L pointed out. "Laws are there for a reason. Human beings have no right to decide what is right and wrong, who should live and who should die."

"But _we_do," emphasised Light, a strange gleam of excitement in his cold eyes. "We have the intellect, the strength of will and the understanding. Not any fool may decide the fates of men, but somebody needs to. A responsibility, maybe, a difficult burden to bear, but nevertheless it must be done, and by people like us, to make the world a place worth living in for the good and the just."

"What Yagami-kun is suggesting, then," L said slowly, although he was 100% certain he understood his companion perfectly, "is that we act as gods."

"If you wish to use the word," Light frowned slightly, "then yes, Ryuuzaki, I suppose we would be like gods."

"And what makes you think that this power to destroy lives should be in the hands of any mortal? Do you not believe in a true God who allows evil and suffering?" L questioned.

"If there was a God, why would He allow suffering?" Light asked. "No, Ryuuzaki, it is up to us to make the world a better place."

"Yagami-kun has strange ideas of justice for the son of a police officer," L stated. "I doubt these views are inherited from your father. From what I know of Yagami-san, he would not approve of murder."

"I am not suggesting murder," Light replied, unaffected by the mention of his father. "Murder is base, it puts us on the same level as criminals, no matter how beautifully done. What I am suggesting is more... that we make a list."

"A list?" L asked, intrigued. This was not what he had expected.

"Yes, exactly that," Light nodded emphatically. "With your police connections, Ryuuzaki, and my connections in, let us say, the underworld, for the sake of poetics, and our combined intellectual capacities, we have the means to solve some of the most difficult cases in the world. Anything which catches our interest, anything the police are at a loss to understand, anything which they are too corrupt or afraid to bring out in the open... we will do it for them. In spite of them. And the names of those criminals, their faces, will be thrown out to the hyenas, plastered across billboards and computer screens worldwide until we have the people screaming for their capture. We will make the criminals cower in fear, give them nowhere to hide, and put the police under immense pressure to make captures, make punishments harsher."

"The world does not care," L replied starkly. "The world already knows names and faces, and it allows criminals to shelter in its poisoned underbelly. The people will not scream for justice. They would not know justice if it came knocking on their door selling girl-scout cookies."

"When you have been in prison for as long as I have," Light replied, unperturbed, "you will learn above all else one thing."

"Not to drop the soap?" L said blithely.

"To be patient," Light said smoothly. "Nobody can build a mansion in a day, but piece by tiny piece, our name will be known."

"Kira?" L asked scathingly.

"No," Light frowned again. "Kira is dead. He died approximately four hours ago, if you remember. What we will represent is seigi – righteousness."

"Seigi?" repeated L doubtfully. "At least Kira had a ring to it."

"Well the charm," Light smiled deviously, "is to let the people choose their own name. Seigi is merely what we represent. Trust me, within three months at the most, we will have a name. Our goals will take true form."

"Our goals?" L questioned. "These sound a lot more like your goals, Light-kun." He dropped the more formal name almost unconsciously. "Do I not get a say?"

"Do you not agree?" Light asked mildly.

"It seems... almost more inviting than any concept I have ever come across before," L admitted. "To solve crimes nobody else can, I admit it is an attractive goal, something I could truly apply my intellect to. But Light-kun is too idealistic. Working with the police anonymously to help solve crimes, to make the system stronger, this is a truly great goal. But to undermine the police will more likely weaken the system, and to allow the world to exact justice... this is mob rule. It is too ambitious, to become gods. The world changes in small ways, Light-kun. What you are suggesting... it would never work, unless-"

"Unless?" Light asked, and there was a hint of triumph in his voice. L looked sharply up at his companion, and realised that he was being played with. Light had wanted all the way along for him to be the one to suggest it.

"Unless we make and broadcast the list, and bring about the death of the criminal in question, to prove we have the might to exact the justice we preach," L finished his thought without a hint of emotion in his voice.

"Ryuuzaki makes an excellent point," Light smirked, pretending to ponder L's statement.

"Then I believe we are at an impasse," L said firmly. "I refuse to be party to murder, even of criminals."

"Impasse bears a lot of the same letters as passive," Light pointed out. "And passive intimates giving up. I do not, as a rule, give up. I believe a better word is compromise."

"And you believe that a suitable compromise can be found?" L enquired.

"There is always a suitable compromise, especially between two such civilised minds as ours," Light mused. "I am willing, perhaps, to cooperate with the police, or rather, to have the police cooperate with us, on some occasions, in return for relinquishing the suggestion that the criminals we uncover be assassinated."

"Does Light-kun think me so blind?" L asked archly. "He has just suggested blackmailing the police into giving us information in exchange for refraining from first degree murder. I daresay he would see the encouragement of harsher punishment within this context, also. I have no particular wish, in any case, to work alongside the NPA, merely I do not wish to undermine them."

"Then what situation would you be comfortable with?" asked Light politely, seemingly genuinely offering him a chance to contribute. His eyes were wide and innocent, his face mirroring an expression of perfect interest and polite concentration. L knew better.

He brought his thumb to his lips, thinking. Light was a master of manipulation, this much was clear, and he had had far longer than L to think out all the different options and reactions L might have. Or rather, that a prospective partner might have. He could not have anticipated L himself into the equation more than a few nights ago. So L had the advantage of being able to pre-empt Light's assumptions about his reactions, thus putting Light into the position of L, forcing him to be the one who had to think hard on the spot.

"I would wish to be in charge of the treatment or disposal of criminals once they have been discovered," he replied finally, and was rewarded with a slight widening of Light's eyes in surprise.

"And what would you propose to do with them?" he asked, trying to mask his shock.

"I am not new to the judgement of criminals on my own terms," L replied in a low voice. "It would not be the first time I have offered a criminal an ultimatum, or a second chance. Nor would it be the first time I have had a criminal arrested on falsified evidence because I was aware of his guilt but was unable with my resources to prove it with legal means. What I propose is a new court system of justice. It is really an adaption of Light-kun's own idea of allowing the people to decide. Each criminal will receive a choice; to give himself up into the hands of the police, or to be killed by Seigi. Killed by justice. Does Light-kun concur?"

"I... I find myself amenable to the suggestion," Light got out eventually. L got the distinct impression that Light was rather attracted to the idea. It was simple and ruthless, yet just. A choice. And L was satisfied that those who tried to escape justice would be the ones truly guilty of polluting the world. It would not be murder if they were choosing their own fate. A creative and convoluted suicide, perhaps, but not murder. Victims of murder did not get to choose their manner of passing. And as time progressed, and the two of them succeeded in executing those who tried to flee from justice, the deaths would decrease and the police would gain strength, with Lawliet and Light in the background, wielding the power. It was the perfect compromise. Light-kun had been right about that.

"Then we have ourselves a compromise," L said, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile, nor a smile which spoke of humour. It was wide and genuine, but almost predatory, like a carnivore contemplating its next meal. But for once, L could taste something more than his usual antipathy towards the world in general. It was not necessarily a healthy feeling, but it was something caught between hope and ambition, something which gave his lethargic body strength and drive. Looking at his new partner in not-quite-crime, he could sense the same thing. It was a gleam in his eyes, a lilt to his voice, a quirk to his lips. Lawliet knew that in their own minds, despite what had been said, they were already gods, their sense of their own mortality dissipating like smoke in the wind.

But for him, it was a worthy exchange. Something about feeling so close, so similar, to another human being, to Light, seeing the same look reflected in his eyes, made him for once wish for more than his boring lot in life. He wanted this.


	5. Identity Of

**Chapter 5: Identity Of**

L looked up briefly as Light set a cup of coffee before him. He slumped over it, although he did not feel as drained as usual; on the contrary he was positively humming with excitement, his brain calculating several things at once, something it had not had the luxury of attempting thus far in his career. He found it was an activity which he could perform with remarkable ease. Whilst reflecting on his own day, and the groundwork he had laid down in accessing highly confidential police files from directly under the noses of his co-workers, he was also reviewing the actions he anticipated Light would have taken that day with the house to himself, as well as gauging Light's reaction to his words, and his own reactions to Light's own words.

Although he and Light had come to an agreement on what their objective would be, L had also warned him the night before that Light himself was a criminal and, as such, was being given a second chance. If Light ever betrayed him, or was less than completely honest with him, he had resolved to act accordingly. Light had smiled and promised his perfect behaviour. However, L knew that whatever else Light was, he was as slippery as an eel, something which had already been proven at least once today.

"What did you do with your day, Light-kun?" he asked mildly as he slurped his sugared coffee.

"I mostly spent my day tidying up this hellhole," Light said archly, pointedly snatching L's briefcase from its floor-spot and tucking it neatly onto a newly polished shelf. Who knew wood could shine? L certainly didn't. "I cannot fathom how you have lived in this place for eight years and you still do not own bleach."

"So Light-kun went through the building records?" L stated, brushing off Light's barb for the more important piece of information Light had betrayed. L had never told him how long he had lived in the apartment for. "He should know better than to believe I would leave my identity lying around so carelessly."

This, of course, did not count as subversive behaviour; if Light had not attempted to dig a little into L's past, he would have been faintly disappointed. After all, hadn't L spent half the morning doing exactly the same thing?

"I was merely confirming my suspicions," Light defended, looking only slightly outraged with himself for letting slip this information. "I highly doubted you would bother to conceal your name unless you were untraceable. Ryuuga Hideki, indeed. Amusing, Ryuuzaki."

"It has caused a few misconceptions," L deadpanned. Again only Light could have picked up the wry humour in the words. "If it sates your curiosity, Light-kun, you will find my records equally absent from the registry office, and I also work under a false name for protection reasons, since I am a detective on some fairly dangerous crimes." Dangerous if you don't have an IQ of above 170, anyway, he added silently. Still, the false identity appealed to him. He didn't really know who L Lawliet was anyway, and certainly nobody else did.

"But it would not be difficult for me to find the name you work under," Light smiled slightly, abandoning any pretence. "And therefore all the records which go with it."

"Ah, Light-kun," sighed L, allowing a slight note of mockery to slip into his voice. "You underestimate me. Surely you cannot think that I would not pre-empt any attempt on your part to hack into my police records? As the man who managed to break you out of a top security prison, surely you must expect that I am perfectly able to conceal my records from you?"

"I get the feeling, Ryuuzaki, that you are not a very sociable person," Light mused.

"Your point?" L enquired, getting up to search the fridge for some cake, sniffing disdainfully at the fresh vegetables which had somehow manifested themselves. How did a wanted criminal shop for groceries?

"I am not entirely convinced that you will have factored the questioning of your colleagues into your equation."

Shit, thought L. He's absolutely right. If he talked to Aizawa or Mogi, Light would be able to extract a good deal of information about his work history, if not himself.

"A wanted criminal questioning the police?" he replied, not allowing his miscalculation to show in his face. "It is inadvisable, Light-kun. Besides, if we are a partnership, arousing suspicions about me between my co-workers would be foolish."

"Believe me when I say nobody would ever suspect me," Light smiled. "But don't worry, even I have some qualms about walking into a station who were on red alert for me not twenty four hours ago."

"I am glad to hear it," L decided, sinking back into his chair with a piece of angel cake. "However, Light-kun, it occurs to me that in all your snooping, did it never occur to you merely to ask me, if there was something you wished to know about my current status or my past?"

"I never for a moment considered that you would tell me," Light rejoined, looking highly diverted at this new twist.

"Well why don't you try?" L offered. Controlling the amount Light knew would ironically give him more power. If he was able to satisfy the boy enough to stop him prying without revealing anything he wished to keep private, it would put him in a stronger position. "I am not at all averse to honesty."

"Well when you put it that way," Light grinned ruefully, "it makes me really wish I hadn't gone through the horror of searching your underwear drawer."

L found it very difficult to suppress his laughter, but years of practice at holding a poker-face allowed him to do so. Amusement was a foreign word to him, but Light was... something else. Despite himself, he knew that he was beginning to like the young man.

"Did you really think you would find anything?" L asked once he felt confident that his vocal chords would not betray him.

"No," Light admitted. "But the absence of anything to see merely confirmed many of the suspicions I had already engendered about you."

"Absence of evidence equals evidence of absence," L murmured. "Very good, Light-kun. You have discovered that I am a social recluse."

"With no outstanding emotional attachments to any particular object or person, apart from a proclivity for confectionary," Light finished. "Not to mention incredibly secretive, bordering on paranoid."

"Then is there anything else you really need to know?" L enquired, not at all bothered by Light's accurate but harmless conclusions.

"Just one thing; how good are you, Ryuuzaki?" Light questioned, fixing the detective with a speculative gaze. L met his eyes full on.

"Very," he answered truthfully. In a few short hours, he had surprised even himself as to how much information he had assembled.

"I thought so," Light nodded, looking very slightly pleased.

"In return may I ask Light-kun a question?" ventured L, his thumb gravitating to his lip as he contemplated what he could ask which Light might answer truthfully. Nothing too obvious, of course, but enough so that he could see his reaction...

"Of course," Light invited carelessly. "Although I may choose not to answer."

"Who does Light-kun care about?" L wondered, watching him closely out of the corner of his eye.

Light blinked, eyes wide with surprise for a second. L watched, fascinated, as a brief, almost invisible emotion skittered across his face, before the mask was back up.

"Caring is a weakness," he replied casually. "I care about the innocent, but caring for an individual creates vulnerability. It would be a foolish thing for one such as me to indulge in."

"I see," L returned, and let the conversation drop for a few moments as he forked a few mouthfuls of cake into his mouth.

He did see. Far more than Light could have expected someone so socially inept to see. He saw that everything Light said to him was the truth; Light would never tell a direct lie, merely express himself misleadingly or manipulate information. Thus, when Light had told him that caring caused vulnerability, it merely implied that Light did not care. But L knew better. There was somebody, he was certain, whom Light cared, or had cared, very deeply for. And he was already at least 40% sure, after that morning, that he knew, or could soon find out, who this person was. Strange, too, that a convicted murderer should hold such qualms about falsehoods. Curiouser and curiouser.

But however much he did not trust Light, he could not stop himself from admiring the elegant misdirection. Something about the way Light's brain worked pulled him in. He just loved to watch it work.

"By the way, whilst you were attempting to hack my life and disinfect my apartment, Light-kun, I took the liberty of downloading some police files you might find interesting," L said once he had swallowed his cake.

"I hope you aren't insinuating that I am not pulling my weight," Light said, sounding faintly disapproving.

"On the contrary," L replied. "I daresay the apartment did need cleaning. I tend not to notice such things myself. Nevertheless, our various levels of usefulness notwithstanding, it would be helpful if you took a look through the files and see if you come to the same conclusions as I did."

"My pleasure," Light replied archly. "May I?" he gestured at L's neatly tucked away briefcase.

"Go right ahead," L invited. He watched as Light pulled out the laptop and inserted a small disc, the twin of one nestling within L's jeans pocket. The younger man hesitated for a moment, and looked up at L, who blinked slowly.

"These are encrypted," he said flatly.

"Yes, they are," L intoned. The two men stared at each other for a few moments before Light let out a small breath and looked back down at the screen. Moments later, his fingers were at work on the keyboard. L closed his eyes for a few moments to enjoy the sound of the young criminal muttering to himself as he fought furiously against the complex firewalls of the top-secret files. It had taken Lawliet four minutes and thirty one seconds to bypass them. He began to count evenly in his head.

"Do you give up yet, Light-kun?" he asked thirteen minutes and nine seconds later.

"No," Light snarled. His perfect hair was a little tumbled from being swept out of his eyes so many times, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. L meandered into the next room to water a pot plant he remembered owning. It was gone, which probably meant that it was dead and Light had thrown it out. He began to do the Sudoku in the open newspaper on the coffee table instead, also courtesy of Light. He was crouching in the darkening room, chewing on his thumbnail, head cocked on one side, when he finally heard the triumphant crowing from the next room.

"Finished?" he asked innocently, noting the time on the clock before him; three hours, thirty-eight minutes and eleven seconds.

"Yes," Light said smugly. "I do have my uses after all, Ryuuzaki."

"Whatever does Light-kun mean?" L asked in false confusion. "I have already read the contents of the files, therefore I was also able to get past the encryptions, surely you should have recognised this? I also managed to get past undetected, which I am sure is more than can be said of you, although in your case it is insignificant since I destroyed the link to the general police database after downloading them. I merely re-established the firewalls as a test."

"If I had not bothered to remain undetected," Light said, looking very sour, "it would have taken me half the time."

"Then I commend you, Light-kun," replied L, who had expected nothing less.

"How long did it take you?" Light demanded after a few moments of exquisite sulking.

"That is not necessary for Light-kun to know," L demurred, denying the smirk which threatened his habitually emotionless face. Light made a sulky sound that came out something like 'Hhnufh'.

"I will allow Light-kun to examine the files now," L said disinterestedly. Light gave another soft snort of irritation in response, and L drifted off into the other room again.

Having Light in the apartment was an uncomfortable experience for Lawliet, who valued his privacy if for no more reason than he detested the constant presence of other human beings. With Light's presence in his meagre rooms, he felt as awkward and out of place as a strawberry in a bowl of miso soup. It brought home to him the fact that he had very little idea how he ever passed the time between working and sleeping. Did he really just sit and wait for darkness to fall and exhaustion to overwhelm him night after night? With Light tapping away at the keys of his laptop, L felt at a loose end. It struck him how little he really did, how ignorant he was of the pursuits which normal people engaged in to pass the time away. Lawliet's hobbies consisted of compulsive eating and insomnia. Then again, he was sure Light already knew this much about him simply from watching him for a few short hours. He didn't care what the boy thought. It was merely uncomfortable doing nothing with somebody else in the house.

Just when Lawliet was wondering whether he should abandon any pretence at having hobbies or a normal attitude to free time and just give in to his usual listlessness, Light called to him from the other room, somehow managing to make the summons polite and civilised, not raising his voice above what was acceptable.

"Ryuuzaki, come and take a look at this with me," he invited. Lawliet slouched into the other room and peered over Light's shoulder at the gently glowing screen. "Right here," Light pointed, indicating a name and mug shot with one inexplicably manicured finger.

"Madarame Kamawa," L read in a monotone. "Convicted of seven murders over a span of four years, allowed out on bail, disappeared and has since evaded capture."

"He's a well known name," Light pointed out, "and his sphere of influence is greater Tokyo, so chances are he's still living in the area."

"You are correct," Lawliet acknowledged. "He also has an accord with the higher-ups in the NPA, which I take to mean he is bribing them with a great deal of money not to bring him in again. He has been connected to a vast drug network in and around Tokyo, but has managed to avoid a conviction for the last three years. Since he has changed his name, the previous charges of first degree murder have been dropped."

"So I'm right?" L asked smugly. "He is the one you selected for our first strike, too."

"Of course I did a profile on each of the names on the list," Lawliet replied coolly. "His was one of the ones I considered most suitable, though, yes."

"Great minds," murmured Light. "I take it the idea of showcasing our first act of Seigi is one which you find palatable?"

"It would be well to establish our MO with a flourish, yes," L agreed emotionlessly. "However, as I anticipate it will take us at least a week or two to trace Madarame, I think it would be wise to compile a list of other high-profile murderers and criminals in the meantime, since it will be more straightforward to locate them and find out their routines in order to easily follow them if, after our charade, they chose to go further underground. In this way, we will be prepared to follow up our first strike with a simultaneous multiple strike, thus tipping the police and the criminal world from concern into panic. After this, I believe the proportion of criminals taking our choice seriously will increase exponentially."

Light was looking at Lawliet rather as if he wanted to take him then and there on the tabletop. Or perhaps it was merely the twisted and ruthlessly ingenious plan which left his eyes shining, cheeks flushed and breathing shallow. It was really highly unpleasant, L thought, that he should rejoice in such a blatant manner in the prospective murders of multiple fellow human beings, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to mind. He was still uncertain about his profile of Yagami. Despite the earlier hint that there was something underneath his flawless exterior which cared for fellow humans, L was positive that the heady power in Light's hands made him just as eager as did the prospect of improving the world and making it a safer place. In turn this led him to question his own motives. He knew he was foremost merely attracted to the idea of devoting his considerable intellect to an interesting problem. He was willing to cause death to save himself from boredom. So really, who was the monster here? Really, he had no right to judge Light. He wasn't even sure if he did; in truth, Light's own mind exhilarated him just as much as his clearly did Light. It was a faintly disturbing thought. All he could console himself with was that their plan would be ridding the world of many people it would be better off without no matter what else may be at work. If the experiment got out of hand, L was sure he still held enough conscience to put a stop to it. And he was sure that he was not yet so attached to Light that he could not betray him, if it came to that.

"It's beautiful," Light breathed as L finished speaking; it had taken him just a split second to complete his faintly unsettling thought process. "You're absolutely right, we need to plan at least a few steps ahead of our actions. I hadn't fully considered the implications of a public strike on other prospective targets. I do, of course, have connections with the type of people who might be contacted by criminals desperate to hide, but it might be better if we saved their help for later. After all, foremost we must protect our own identities or it will be over before it has begun."

"Since Light-kun is dead and I do not exist, we should not have too many problems concealing our identities," L replied wryly. "Nevertheless you are quite correct. We should keep everything between the two of us until we are more certain of our positions. Which leaves the question of-"

"How to arrange a public stage for our judgement of Madarame," finished Light. "If you do not object, Ryuuzaki, I have already devised a plan for this. Tell me if you think it will work."

It was almost frightening, Lawliet mused, how well the two of them worked together. Unconsciously, the tip of his tongue darted out to lick his lower lip.


	6. Progress

**Chapter 6: Progress**

Of course, leave it to Light to have contacts in television. As it appeared to L, Light had contacts practically all over the world specialising in everything under the sun. It would hardly surprise him if the little green men hypothetically residing beyond the earth's hemisphere knew and respected the name Yagami Light and were just waiting to do his bidding. He had to admit, there was something about him which could charm inanimate objects to his will. However, L had spent many long years learning to imitate the emotional potency generally exhibited by the underside of a shoe, and therefore remained mostly immune to the effects, managing to remain completely on his guard around his new housemate at all times. Even Light's careful consideration, his subtle undertaking of all the household chores L mindlessly neglected, and the utmost respect and courtesy Light always treated him with served merely to make him more attentive to his own behaviour, denying himself the luxury of letting his guard down. Light's plethora of contacts served as a reinforcement of how much the young man was still keeping concealed from him, and was a timely reminder not to trust him even an inch. Subtle research into whatever L could find out about Light's past reinforced this view that Light was categorically not as he chose to appear. Still, L could do little to prevent the little habits they were both slipping into through sharing the same relatively small living space.

"Did you sleep?" Light asked him as he appeared in the doorway, heading for the coffee pot which was almost incessantly on. L shook his head, and hopped up from his crouch on the sofa to follow Light into the kitchen. Seven hours of excruciating insomnia had made him hungry for something other than ringing silence, and Light observation had been added to his meagre list of hobbies over the past week and a half. On rising, Light's first question to his partner was always the same, after the look L had favoured him with on the first morning, when he had been short-sighted enough to add a poorly-placed 'well' on the end of his question.

"Is it always this bad?" Light asked as L settled himself at the table with yet another cup of coffee, poured out for him without instigation by Light. L blinked. It was unusual for Light to follow up on his first question with a continuation of the topic.

"Sometimes," L said evasively. The truth was he had not suffered from such an acute bout of insomnia for over six months, and he could feel his mental state beginning to deteriorate after almost four consecutive days with no more than an hour of sleep each day, most of it at his desk at work, much to his colleagues' disgust. He hated to think that he was so weak as to be feeling the effects of the plan he was, quite literally, executing daily, but he might have to concede that the mental effects of carrying out his contingency plan might be part of the cause of his chronic insomnia.

"Do you want my opinion?" Light asked. L blinked again, and peered at Light. This was unusual, too. Light would often ask for L's opinion on some matter or other, since L was incredibly reticent unless particularly interested in something, but for Light to ask before venturing his own opinion was unheard of.

"Speak," L replied. Although as Light was unaware of L's questionable extracurricular activities at this juncture, it was unlikely he could contribute anything useful, but in the interest of letting Light come to a conclusion which did not include L doing things behind his back, he allowed him room to suppose.

"It's obvious that you've been suffering insomnia for a number of years. The only items in this place you spend any real amount of money on are coffee and sugar, both stimulants to give you energy as a sleep substitute. The bed is the only piece of furniture which is good quality, selected for its increased comfort, probably in an attempt to raise the percentage of probability that you will receive a good night of rest. Your drugs cabinet lacks standard supplements such as cold medicine, bandages and paracetamol, but includes seven different brands of sleeping aids, all of which are opened but almost full, as if each in turn has been tried and discarded.

"As no human body can withstand long stretches without proper rest, and your attention span and alertness have decreased over the last couple of days, I can only surmise either that this is your usual state and that your behaviour prior to this point has been uncharacteristic, or that you are currently experiencing more severe insomnia than is usual even for you.

"Based on these deductions, I believe the cause of this to be either the stress of having another person in your personal zone for extended periods of time, or the lack of your usual sleeping facilities are causing your sleep deprivation."

"Do you want a cookie?" L asked boredly. "You've told me I can't sleep because I'm stressed and uncomfortable, it's no great leap of logic for a genius." In truth, he was greatly impressed with Light's staggering skills of observation.

"I also picked up on the change in your habits I could have no real way of knowing unless I was exceptionally observant," Light griped. "But if you would listen to me, I was going to suggest that you take the bed back, since I can sleep just as easily on the couch, and-"

"There's no need," L cut in. "You can keep the bed."

"Then I'm right," crowed Light. "You gave me the bedroom so that if I get up in the night for any reason you can observe my movements, and by confining me to a room with no communication devices or electrical appliances you are denying me the opportunity to contact anyone without you knowing. I admit, it is severely vexing that you do not have a desktop computer; when you go to work I have very limited methods of doing any of my own research."

"It's a necessary precaution," L muttered. His eyes were itching, and his mind felt as if it were padded with cotton wool, but sleep still refused to come for more than restless twenty minute slots, and that was if he was lucky. Still, Light had only accurately deduced one half of L's primary objective; additionally, the arrangement gave L the freedom to move without Light's knowledge, although he was scrupulously careful about what he did in his own home.

"Agreed, I do not wish to appear as if I have betrayed your trust, and I am therefore willing to submit to any methods you devise to satisfy you that it's not going to happen," Light nodded, not sounding offended at all about the mistrust L felt for him. "However, if your continued suspicions of me are causing your stress levels to put you out of action, I think it would be sensible for us to discuss a solution instead of waiting for you to drop dead on your feet."

"Is Light-kun concerned about my well-being?" L asked sarcastically. "Perhaps he was correct in his first assumption, and this is merely my usual state."

"No," Light shook his head. "You're still trying to work, but you're making mistakes due to your lack of concentration, so the desire is there, but the mental faculties are currently wanting. You left your phone at home yesterday, Ryuuzaki, leaving me free to look through your contact list and messages, which was incredibly careless for someone as cautious as you. Therefore, I am not concerned about you, but about our partnership. We cannot afford any mistakes, and I need you to be operating at full potential."

"I left my phone?" mumbled L absently, swivelling his head to scan the room for it. It was not critical, since he immediately wiped anything suspicious, but it was careless nonetheless, and gave him anxiety as to what else he might have left for L to pick up on.

"No, I was testing you," Light said smoothly. "If you were not alarmingly off your game, you would have instantly been aware of the falsehood, since I would be unlikely to tell you that I had been through your contacts of my own volition, and you ought to have been aware of the fact that your phone was with you."

"Light-kun is right," L grimaced. "That was an appalling lapse in judgement." He was shocked himself, truth be told, that he had fallen so easily into this rudimentary trap. Usually, when his judgement was this impaired, it made little difference to his outward demeanour since there was nobody to notice, but playing such a complicated game, it was painfully obvious, and it made him even more alarmed that his vulnerability had been exposed to the one person around whom he could not let his guard down.

"I am aware of that," Light frowned. "Therefore I am suggesting another compromise. You cannot sleep because you do not trust me and you are suffering from the loss of your highly comfortable bed. How often do you usually sleep?"

"About four or five hours, perhaps," L responded. Impaired or not, he had an inkling what Light's solution might be, and he was faintly impressed with its simplicity, although he would not have suggested it himself. He still had to wonder at Light's ulterior motives, though.

"Hmm, that might be problematic," Light pondered. "But I'm sure you are no stranger to boredom. Ryuuzaki, would you consider sleeping handcuffed to me? I am afraid it would impair your movements whilst I slept, since you could hardly keep the key within my reach, but it would mean you could both sleep in the bed and keep track of me, and I doubt even you would have any concern about my attacking you in your sleep or anything of that sort."

"Light-kun would be making a considerable sacrifice," L pointed out. Was the boy really thinking altruistically? But L couldn't really see any other fringe benefits for him, apart from perhaps the gaining of L's trust.

"If it's the only way, it's the only way," Light shrugged. "I don't mind if it means I have your brain back at full power. I can't do this by myself and we planned to make our first move in two days time. I need you thinking sharply when we move. Besides, I am hardly a stranger to handcuffs; it won't be a problem for me."

"Then I agree," L confirmed. If only his trust was at stake, there was little issue; he was too paranoid ever to trust Light further than he could throw a cake. Which was nowhere, since throwing perfectly delicious cake would be a shocking waste. The benefit of the arrangement was in letting Light think that he was beginning to trust him.

"The only problem is that I need considerably more sleep than you, so you might be required to sit still for a few hours when you wake up," Light explained.

"Light-kun is right, this is not an unusual occurrence for me," L nodded. "Fortunately I have a book collection to rival Light-kun's own." Besides, there was something strangely attractive in the idea of being able to watch the young man at his most innocent and vulnerable.

"So I've seen," Light smiled. "I'm glad; I would have missed my books, but you seem to own almost all the titles I had collected, and many more besides."

"Mmm," L agreed. His eyes were drooping closed, his mind and body more relaxed than they had been for days thanks to their new agreement. Against all expectation, there was something comforting in having another body next to his. He noticed Light frowning at him; his face looked oddly distorted.

"Perhaps we should test our new arrangement now?" he suggested. L thought he sounded slightly anxious. Maybe that was because his face was melting?

"Hmm?" he managed as the world slid sideways.

The last thing he heard was a heartfelt sigh, and the click of metal around his wrist.

Waking up to a ray of sunshine angling directly into his face, Lawliet's first thought was _I'm waking up. That means I slept. Oh good._It was hardly the most intellectual thought process he had ever achieved, but it made him smile to himself in satisfaction in any case. For a genius, sleep seemed to be one of the few things he was unable to achieve, along with contentment and social pleasantries.

"I called your office," Light's voice drifted to his ears from the side. "They are now under the impression you are a homosexual, but I doubt you care that much."

L dragged himself into a sitting position and pushed his hair around on his head to allow for slight peripheral vision, resulting in most of it pointing skywards. From Light's smirk, he must look incredibly stupid.

"I am sure you could have come up with an explanation which did not cripple my social standing even further," L replied grouchily, although Light was correct; he didn't give a damn what anyone at the office thought. "What did you tell them? I may find it necessary to know in order to reinforce the alibi."

"I see your mind has recovered," Light said, sounding satisfied. "Incidentally, I can also tell this because in the thirty-one seconds you have been awake you have scanned the room for anything out of place, checked the location of all communication devices and observed that we are handcuffed together."

"Are you avoiding the question?" L asked acerbically. "Where is the key, by the way?"

"I left it on the table in the other room so that you could affirm that I have in fact been tied to you the entire time you slept," Light told him. "And I recorded the conversation so you can listen to it at will."

"Very forward-thinking of you," L murmured, "but effectively by using the telephone you have proven to me that you have left the room."

"I called before I dragged you in here," Light responded smoothly. "I guess I have no way of proving I took you in here straight after unless you want to use the lack of cricks in your neck as evidence."

"I will take your word for it," L decided. After all, he knew the Yagami boy to be scrupulously honest even if he was tricky with his words. "Shall we?"

"Of course," Light responded, laying aside his book and getting up, taking care not to jar the standard issue police handcuffs binding them together. "We might want to look into getting cuffs with a longer chain, though; this is fairly restrictive."

"Forgive me if my repertoire does not consist of long-chained cuffs," L deadpanned. "I rarely indulge in bondage." It was the same sarcastic humour which put his colleagues constantly on edge around him, but Light laughed delightedly as he followed him into the lounge, where L clicked the cuffs open. It was things like that, L considered, that made him believe that he might almost, despite everything, be capable of trusting Light; simply because they seemed to understand each other so well. Perhaps he was mistaken, and the past was the past. Perhaps he could afford to let himself become fond of Light, simply enjoy his company.

Immediately as the cuffs were released, Light strode over to the coffee pot and L drifted to the phone to play back the conversation between Light and the NPA secretary. By the end of the brief exchange, Lawliet was enjoying the sensation of abject humiliation which had until this moment been blissfully foreign to him. And he was no longer in any danger of trusting Light. Ever.

"Light-kun?" he asked calmly.

"Yes, Ryuuzaki?" Light asked innocently, placing a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of cake before him.

"It cannot have escaped your considerable skills of observation that I am an antisocial person who is unlikely to be popular at work."

"I had noticed something to that effect, yes."

"Then it would not be a very great leap of the imagination to suppose that a single day of absence from work might have gone unremarked upon if I were to fail to inform my superiors?"

"But..." Light looked perturbed. L picked up the expression and interpreted it as completely genuine, concluding that it had not crossed Light's mind to fail to report his absence. For a devious criminal mastermind, the boy was ridiculously straight-laced.

"I think it might have caused less of a stir than your message, at any rate," L continued dryly.

"It was the only logical explanation I could come up with for why I didn't know your name," Light defended, looking faintly guilty. "Technically, it's your fault, Lawliet."

Then it struck L that Light was not as innocent as he made out. His expression might show perfect innocence, but he was a scheming menace; he had called L's office because it was a golden opportunity for him to find out L's name without raising any suspicion. Except that L was the most paranoid person on the planet, and it took significantly less than was usual to make him suspicious. From L's mutinous expression, Light seemed to realise his game had been seen through.

"What makes you think that is my real name? I told you I work under a false name," L scowled.

"The look on your face," Light shrugged remorselessly. "And detectives don't use false names around the office, only on cases, Lawliet."

"Light-kun could have found out my name with considerable less damage to my career," snapped L irritably. "Not only do my colleagues now think I am a homosexual, but they think I hire rent-boys to whom I give a false name before proceeding to keep them up all night until I am too exhausted to work the next morning."

"To be fair that was Kiri-san's conclusion. I never suggested such a thing," Light defended, having the grace to wince a little as L put it so bluntly.

"You allowed her to think it," L snarled. "I may not care for my reputation, but it's not a habit you want to let people know about if you're a detective."

"On the contrary, it's spectacular timing," Light tried. "Something I learnt about leading people is that if they know that you are guilty of a small misdeed, they are less likely to consider your involvement in a larger one. For example a convicted petty thief is rarely accused of first degree murder. As such, if your colleagues believe you have a slightly shady indulgence, if any suspicion is ever raised of a mole within the police, you will be less likely to be suspected since you already have your vice."

"What Light-kun is saying may be true," L said reluctantly, "but it does not make me any happier to be in the centre of a completely falsified minor scandal."

"Well putting your sexual habits aside," said Light, who seemed to feel very little shame for his extreme faux pas, "since you're home it is an excellent opportunity for us to meet with the contact of mine who is organising the first stage for us."

"Matt again?" asked L, his interest immediately engaged at the prospect of meeting one of Light's associates, which would give him the opportunity to scratch even further into the the surface of Light's past. So far, what he knew was tantalising, enough for L to have severe suspicions, but entirely without context.

"Well Matt is the one who is making contact with my connection in television, so yes, we're seeing him," Light conceded, "but with regards to the men who are staking out the criminals we plan to target next, the man in charge of the operation is Mello."

"Mello?" L tasted the name for familiarity. "That wouldn't happen to be a blond-haired hermaphrodite with an anger management problem, would it?"

"You know him?" Light looked surprised.

"I let him off for minor drug use a few years ago," L admitted. "He told me he was working undercover to work his way into the upper ranks of the drug circle so he could take it over and run his own ring, but that when they were his men, they wouldn't be selling drugs, but taking out other drug circles because the police were too busy putting away small fry like him to do it themselves. That was after I had disarmed him and prevented him from beating me with his bare fists."

"So why did you let him go?" Light asked incredulously.

"Because I believed him," L stated simply. "I am remarkably good at detecting people's motives, and Mello's was to get to the top and do anything to get there, but there was something about him... perhaps his trust in me of all people, I am not sure. Nevertheless, my faith was not misplaced. He was the one who helped me crack the Tyler Ring six months ago."

"You do know that Mello is high up in the Mafia?" Light asked sceptically.

"I am aware of the fact, but I like to think of him as an agent of justice working undercover," L frowned thoughtfully, bringing his thumb to his lower lip. "He holds a contempt for the criminal element, even if he works with them, and he never works with anyone crazier than him. It's a good quality in a mob boss..."

"You're so crooked," Light laughed gleefully. "I had no idea we were so alike. You're not nearly as innocent as you like to think, Lawliet. That's high-level corruption!"

"It's good common sense," Lawliet contradicted. "Mello is a good person."

"Who breaks the law every day of his life," Light pointed out. "I barely needed to propose this partnership to you, Lawliet; you're already a private mirror of justice in your own right."

"I thought you just described it as high-class corruption," L sniped.

"From a police perspective, yes," Light agreed. "From an outside perspective, you are doing what the police as a body cannot, making subjective decisions to further the cause of justice. Only individuals such as ourselves are qualified to make such judgements, and our righteousness is reflected in the fact that we both judged the same man and found him worthy. You see? Our judgement is higher than the police. The police need us to make the decisions they cannot."

"I do recognise that our minds are apparently on the same wavelength," conceded L, "although I am not entirely sure how an individual such as Mello managed to meet with our approval."

"Because he is like us; he recognises who deserves to live and die and makes it happen. He does not answer to the law, but to seigi, to justice."

"And to you," L said shrewdly.

"Well, to be honest, he doesn't exactly answer to me, more accurately we occasionally work together," Light shrugged. "You might have noticed he's not the most submissive of men."

"But he's been working to track down the criminals whose profiles we prepared?" L asked.

"Yes," Light nodded. "Apparently he's been looking to off a few of them anyway, so it suited him to work with us on this. We're meeting him and Matt at ten."

"Together?" L asked sceptically.

"Oh? I forgot to tell you they're lovers," Light said offhandedly. L choked on his coffee.

"Any more incidental homosexual references, Light-kun, and I may begin to doubt your own preferences," L remarked slyly. Although that did explain Mello's fondness of leather pants. And it gave L a very good opening into Light's past. What he had not mentioned to Light was that the fact he was an excellent judge of motive meant that he was definitely on the scent of those which Light undoubtedly possessed. Meeting Mello would be the perfect confirmation, and the opportunity to put the last details of his plan into motion.

One thing L had learnt about Light; he had utmost confidence in himself to charm everybody to his will. Too much confidence.


	7. Many Meetings

**Chapter 7: Many Meetings**

It had been such a long time since L had bothered to indulge in any extracurricular crime that he felt rather twitchy in light of his recent endeavours entering the home of two shadier members of society. It wasn't that he was agoraphobic, but leaving his own cluttered apartment was often something he faced with great reluctance, and the feeling was reinforced when the familiar location was substituted with a top floor apartment in a building which seemed to be designed as a gathering point for drug dealers and prostitutes. He therefore stuck very close to Light as they picked their way through garbage and slumped bodies to the front of the building. Annoyingly, Light seemed to be completely at ease, albeit fastidiously avoiding contact with any of the grime which coated every moving and unmoving shape in the ill-lit street.

"Yo," a voice called to them as they drew towards the door of the building. The words came from the mouth of a stripe-clad, goggle-wearing redhead who was smoking a cigarette and looked and sounded as if he was stoned. "'sup?"

"Matt," Light greeted pleasantly, and from what L could make out, he looked genuinely pleased to see the stoner, who was no older than nineteen, and a good four inches shorter than the two men. Other than that, L could see the resemblance between Matt and Light; aside from the odd attire, the two could have been brothers.

"What's the password?" Matt asked, ignoring L completely.

"Knowing Mello, it's something along the lines of 'get your fuckin' asses up here and don't ask stupid questions', Light replied calmly. L noted the subtle but compelling changes in tone and voice as he imitated Mello; it was uncanny.

"Pretty damn close," admitted Matt. "C'mon, then." He threw the last of the cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with one black leather biker's boot, then turned into the building. Light followed casually, and L, more reluctantly, did the same. The only reason he was entering this building was because of his fascination with the criminal element; to him, it was a scientific experiment. He wanted to see what made them tick, and how Light interacted with them. A few carefully interjected comments could raise a positive swarm of interesting facts. It was better than a trip to the candy store, except he was far more likely to end up dead; although he knew Mello, he couldn't claim to be bosom buddies with the temperamental blond.

"Who's the zombie?" asked Matt as he led them up a narrow, urine-scented staircase.

"This is an associate of mine," Light demurred effortlessly. "He has been aiding me on this particular venture, and he's a former acquaintance of Mello's."

"'Kay," Matt shrugged. "'Slong as he's not the fuzz."

"Naturally," Light said smoothly, and once again L noted the misleading but not actually dishonest response; Light was a pro.

They clattered up several flights of stairs before they reached a narrow landing; the door read _Fuck Off!_Not bothering to wonder if the inhabitants were responsible for this welcoming graffiti or not, L paid more attention to the fact that neither of his companions was out of breath. If he were to fight with Light, he wondered who would win.

"Yo, Mels?" Matt called through the door. "Open the hell up, will you?" After a few moments of silence, stomping, swearing and crashing could be heard from inside, and the door was yanked abruptly open by a familiar, scowling face.

"Quit swearing, it's getting on my nerves," Mello chided irritably as he stood aside to let them in.

"Fuck off," Matt rejoined amicably, and tipped his lover a wink, stubbing out his second cigarette under his boot on the doorstep. Mello gave him an exasperated but slightly soft look, something L had never seen in his expression before. Glancing at Light, he immediately knew it was something his partner was aware of and would take advantage of in a second; Matt and Mello were in love, and would probably eat entire tubes of wasabi to protect the other. For L, there was no higher qualification of loyalty. He, too, filed away this information for later reference.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing here?" Mello asked flatly as L appeared over the threshold. Mello's eyes were darting from L to Light, calculating.

"Mello, how have you been?" Light asked politely, ignoring the question completely as he sat uninvited on a battered leather armchair. Surprisingly, the usually leather-clad Mello was in black sweatpants and a loose black sweater rather than his more ostentatious attire. He looked youthful, but innocent would be too great-a stretch for anyone with those stone cold eyes.

"Fabulous," he replied sharply, narrowing said eyes at Light, head snapping away from L. "Just peachy. My favourite car got wrecked on some wild police fucking goosechase to save your sorry ass, and I didn't even get paid for it!"

"Aw, you still bent up about that, Mels?" Matt drawled. "Damn, that chase shit was sweet. It was worth a coupla dents in the auto. Don't listen to blondie," he shot at L and Light. "I've already given him more'n enough comp for that shit. He's just tryin' to milk you."

"Fuck you," Mello scowled at the unabashed Matt. "Yagami's a fucking goldmine if you tap him right."

"Who do you think you're tapping?" Matt asked, outraged. "You're my bitch."

"Who's the bitch?" Mello asked dangerously, his expression both sultry and dangerous.

"Leaving that aside," Light interrupted tactfully, preventing what L was sure would have been a highly entertaining scene, "how has your assignment been progressing?"

"Yeah, about that," Mello said sharply, snapping out of his one-on-one flirtathon in an instant and fixing Light and L once again with his piercing stare, "Since when did you hang out with the fuzz?"

"Hello to you too, Mello," murmured L, who was less than pleased with his new label. "And for the record, I am currently working outside my capacity as a detective."

"No shit," said Matt, who looked a little annoyed; he sent Light a reproachful glance.

"Yo, L," Mello said cheerfully, with a side-order of razorblade, "if you rat us out I'll blow your head off and use your hair as a mop to clean my bathroom with."

"As unlikely as it may sound," L ventured, "I believe it might be less sanitary after that particular enterprise even than it was before." Mello let out a short laugh before focusing on Light again, his gaze shuttering from one to the other like the snap of a camera lens.

"Light, you sure you're not in over your head? This is one fucked up bastard you're playing with."

"Who, L?" Light asked mildly. "I find we get on rather well as long as I keep the cupboard stocked with cake."

"You what? You two fucking living together?" Mello asked incredulously. "That's messed up, man. That's like a sheep living with a wolf!" L froze; he had not anticipated that the exchange of information with Mello might work in Light's favour, too. He shot a glance at his companion.

"Naturally," Light acknowledged, looking entirely unconcerned at the warning. "Remember, Mello, our circumstances differ significantly. You may have misjudged which of us plays which role." It was not often L was confused, but he, too, was for a split second not entirely sure which of them played which role; although he could control Mello, Light was somewhat more of a mystery, and it was difficult to determine which of them held the strings. Was his lack of concern a bluff, or did he truly think that he held the power over L?

"All right," Mello said, giving him curious, searching look. "It's your head, just leave Matt and me out of it when the two of you come to blows. I've got men on eight of your crazies, and the other two I'm still working on; one of them might be in Boston, but I'm keeping tabs on a few other locations. You sure you just want me to watch 'em?"

"For now. Matt?" Light prompted.

"Yeah, Takada says she'll give us the details, so I can hack the network for you whenever," he shrugged. He strolled over to a battered dresser off to one side of the living room, and pulled out a slim folder, which he handed to Light. "The basics are in there for you. You won't need them, but you did ask."

"Thank you," Light said coolly. "As much as I value your skills, Matt, I'm having L field this one since we're going to be operating a bit closer to home for this job. Tell Takada-san its two days' time at six."

"Right," Matt nodded; L noticed that he didn't ask questions. Obviously, both men trusted Light; no surprises there since he spoke to them with every appearance of total respect and affection. The association between the three of them must have stretched back before Light's years in prison, in which case Light must have known the boys in their childhoods, or at least their teens. From school? Judging from the slang Matt employed, it was doubtful, and L knew that Mello had been involved in questionable activity since his early teens at the latest. But Light had been a spotless citizen until his sudden confession; where had he encountered these two shades? It might be the final key L needed to be completely sure...

"Do Mello-kun and Matt-kun have a secure means of communication with which to correspond?" L asked the two young men, bringing his thumb to his lips as he always did when he wished to appear innocent. "It is hardly efficient to maintain contact through frequent visits, yet we need to remain on top of the situation with the criminals we are tracking."

"Good point," Mello said before Light could intervene. "Matt, do your thing. We agreed that Matt was going to install an automatically synchronising tracking system into Light's phone so that whenever we get updated on their movements, so do you," he explained to L. L was not looking at him, but at Light, who withdrew a small mobile phone from a hidden pocket with an unreadable expression.

"If you would be so kind as to synchronise my phone also," L said levelly.

"Sure," Matt agreed, grabbing the proffered device and tinkering with it deftly. Once he had finished, L reached out his hand for both devices and examined them minutely, checking the programme which had been installed for viruses or other unwelcome bonus features. They were clean. It would be an easy matter for him to modify the programme in order to track Light's phone, too.

"I am fascinated to know where Matt-kun became so good with his hands," said L quietly to the boy, mainly to distract Light's attention; he could sense the wary intensity of the other's eyes focused on the back of his neck.

"If you're a detective, then you probably don't wanna know," Matt replied fervently. L gave him a crafty smile.

"There are enough video games in this room for you to have come up with a very convincing excuse for your manual dexterity if you had wished," he replied. "I therefore conclude that you are either winding me up or are proud of your background as a criminal, and that part time work as a kleptomaniac is another thing I can add to your list of skills."

Matt swore softly, and Mello frowned.

"I told you he was as slippery as a fucking weasel," he said to nobody in particular. "Hey, Lawli, on second thought, you and Light are a match made in fucking heaven. Light's a damn genius too." L knew better to reply to this leading statement, and apparently so did Light; they didn't need Mello to know any more about their alliance than was absolutely unavoidable. However, by letting Mello speak, L was finding out piece by piece what lay behind Light's relationship with the two youths. What he really wanted to know, of course, was if Light had been a criminal when he met them, or whether certain events later on had cause him to stain his perfect hands blood red. From what he heard, he could at least surmise that Light was not unfamiliar with the criminal element before the age of eighteen.

"So when did you two meet?" Mello persisted when nobody took his bait. "I can't see the two of you getting to know each other as anything other than business partners."

"Are you questioning Light-kun's taste in men?" L asked innocently, watching Light out of the corner of his eye; his expression froze, and his eyes set on Mello, who looked amused.

"Oh, so it is that?" he mused softly. "And I thought you were a one-person type, Light. After all the time I spent trying to take an interest in me it was Lawli who managed to catch your eye. Well, judging from your past conquests, he is more your type, I suppose."

L was looking from Light to Mello with interest. He had been correct; Mello was always one to talk a little too much about other people's business. If you managed to say exactly the right thing, you could find out a lot from him. If you said the wrong thing, of course, you would more often than not be trying to pick up fragments of tooth from the gutter, but L was an expert. He could tell that Mello had said far more than Light would have chosen, because Light let out an airy, tinkling laugh which L could tell covered his cold fury.

"Oh, you know that you and I would never have worked out, Mello," he said in a voice which gave every impression of being light and cheerful, "you're just a little too hot for me to handle."

"Darn straight," interjected Matt, who had fallen out of the conversation in favour of staring intently at a hand-held console and gesticulating vigorously with his thumbs. "That's right, die, you bastard," he added absently to his game.

"If that's the business all taken care of," L hinted, eager to get out of the shabby apartment before Light could find a way to turn the tables on him.

"Indeed," Light agreed, clearly also eager for Mello's lips to stop moving. "Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen. I'll send you the payment in the usual way if that is still acceptable?"

"What about payment for the extra job? It's still on, right?" Mello asked pointedly, shifting his eyes momentarily to L. L glanced idly at Light, who was looking daggers at the blond. Ah, perfect. The last piece of the puzzle was within his reach.

"All payment will be sent in the usual way," he reiterated.

"Yeah, but-" Mello protested, but Light cut through him, a sharp burst of temper surfacing through his cool facade.

"For god's sake Mello," he shouted, and then took a deep breath and regained his cool; Mello looked stunned. "We shall discuss it later." Mello nodded mutely. That in itself was a surprise; as far as L knew, Mello submitted to no one. His earlier comment to Light proved that L was one of the few people able to control or outwit him.

Once out of the little apartment, L slumped after Light silently. From the proud, stiff set of Light's shoulders, he was absolutely furious, and L, who tended to avoid confrontation wherever possible, was not keen to provoke another lapse of temper in his companion. However, the downside to this was that if he gave Light a chance to compose himself, then he was also giving him the chance to pull up a cover story. Confronting him when he was still angry and emotional was more likely to produce results, but L, who had spent a lifetime as a pacifist – or more accurately a lifetime of not caring enough to fight for anything – did not have the experience required to stir up a scene. He had learnt enough for one night, in any case. He did not really need Light's confirmation to know exactly what he had to do. Instead, he would eat some cake, do some work and retire to his room, letting the matter rest until the perfect time.

Light had a different idea.

"That," he spat as soon as the door of L's apartment had rattled its way back into its frame, "was low, Lawliet. I granted you a measure of trust by taking you with me to discuss the mission, and you used it against me." Ah, so Light had used the walk home to come up with a guilt pitch, had he? It was a pity L had absolutely no concept of remorse, especially when he was not the only one not playing with a full deck.

"I rather thought Light-kun was doing the same thing in confronting me with Mello-kun," he replied calmly. "You have clearly been in contact with him, therefore I assume that you were aware of our acquaintance, and you invited me to come with you because you wanted to see how he would react to me in the hope that he would give something away, am I not correct? Besides which, Light-kun has not exactly been completely honest with me. Were you going to tell me about your tracking device if I had not discovered it myself?"

"It wasn't something you needed to know about," Light dismissed roughly.

"On the contrary, Light-kun, since we agreed that I would be in charge of the potential disposal of criminals, it is imperative that I know whom we are tracking and where they are," L contradicted. "Besides which, I would prefer to decide for myself what it is necessary for me to know."

"How do you expect me to trust you if you are using this as an opportunity to dig into my past?" Light demanded. L fixed him with a long, blank look before answering.

"How do you expect me to trust you," he said slowly, "if I do not know who you really are, Yagami-kun?"

Light's demeanour changed with such fluidity that L was momentarily stunned. The tense anger melted away, and a kind, genuine look of contentment replaced it, accentuating the attractiveness of his features.

"I'm sorry," he apologised gallantly, giving a charming smile to the slightly surprised L. "I should not have lost my temper so easily. It was natural for somebody as cautious and intelligent as you to want to know about my past. In fact, all I have done is make it look as if I have something to hide, haven't I? Well, since you already think that I am a murderer it hardly matters what you make of my connection with Mello and Matt.

"The truth is, I've known Mello since before I was in prison; I expect you surmised that much? We met when I was sixteen and he was fourteen. Although I was a few years older than him, and a very popular and respected student, Mello took an interest in me, and ignored the strangeness of our acquaintance. He had dropped out of school by then, and was already involved in god knows what. I suppose you could say that I was a mentor for him." Light paused and grinned cockily at L. "That's what people thought, anyway. In fact, Mello was the one pursuing me, and it was through him that I made a lot of my early connections. I won't go into details, but I gained his trust after a particular episode, and quickly I surpassed him, and he was the one helping me out, although I often returned the favour. Matt was a bit of a godsend; I found him first, but he and Mello – well, it's a different story, and one that won't interest you. As Mello suggested, he was eager to be more than just friends with me for a while, but of course that was out of the question.

"Well? Does that satisfy your curiosity, Lawliet?"

It was beautifully done, L thought. It was just as he himself had done for Light, giving him enough information to explain the hints he had discovered, but it was carefully constructed to give almost nothing away. L was 100% sure that much, much more lay behind the brief tale of Light's history, but he was not going to pressure Light for it at this moment. He would let him think he had won. Besides, Light had inadvertently told him just enough to allow him to clarify what he already knew about his past. It confirmed that Light did not suspect how much L knew. This was convenient.

"And the matter of his assumption about the nature of our relationship?" L enquired, thumb drawn to his lip.

"I suppose I cannot condemn you for the insinuation," Light smiled slightly, "since you will be facing your colleagues tomorrow with a similar problem thanks to me. It may come in useful, I suppose, to have this cover story as an excuse for our cohabitation."

"I am sorry," L apologised with admirable affectations of sincerity. "It was inconsiderate of me to say that I did not trust you. If this partnership is to work, we need to be able to be honest with each other. I won't attempt to sabotage you again, if you agree to do the same with me."

"Of course," Light nodded, looking appeased. "As mature adults, it is fruitless to bicker about such trivial matters."

So, peace was re-established, thought L, with very little betrayed all told. But Mello had given L more to think about than Light had thought to cover. It was clever of him, to make the main issue about Light's relationship with Mello, and L had helped his own case by focusing on his and Light's own relationship in order to throw Light off the scent, but for somebody as observant as L, it was fruitless to try and distract his attention.

"_I thought you were a one-person type, Light."_

"_What about payment for the extra job? It's still on, right?"_

Only somebody with razor-sharp skills of observation and enough paranoia to power an armoured tank would pick up on the two carelessly uttered phrases and put them together, but luckily for L, he was that type of person. He had already come to the conclusion that Light was attempting something which he was keeping private from him, and the secret mobile Light kept supported the theory. Whether Mello had purposely betrayed the fact, or whether he genuinely thought that L was Light's new lover and knew about the 'extra job' too he could not tell. But the connection remained suspiciously strong. The only circumstance that had changed in Mello's eyes was the apparent development of a relationship between L and Light, therefore the extra job had at least a 43% probability of being to do with somebody who had previously been close to Light. Working with what he had already uncovered with the files containing the list of criminals who were escaped or walking free, L now knew more than enough to tell him that Light had a serious ulterior motive.

Although L's head told him all of this, even he was not too oblivious to notice that his heart told him a different story. His focus on his relationship to Light had been more than a cover. Somewhere within him, he almost wished that could be the case. Some part of him he had thought was long dead was not at all averse to the notion that it might have been a possibility, that maybe Light could feel that way about him. But he knew that it could not be so. It was a heartbreaking shame, but L knew that he must not let emotions get in the way of cold, hard logic.

"Light-kun," L called softly, and Light, who was pulling on his pyjamas before the chain was closed around their wrists, turned at the sound of his voice. "I still have your phone."

Their eyes met as the small device changed hands, and L kept his own face as smooth and impassive as Light's. Would he take it as a symbol of trust, or would he be suspicious? L could not be certain that Light would be trusting enough of him to take it as a sign of good faith, but at least L's own skill, and the fact that he had not been more than a metre away from Light since receiving the phone, should make it impossible for Light to know or even suspect that L could now track every transaction Light undertook.


	8. The Message

**Chapter 8: The Message**

Light was curled up on his side like a cat, fast asleep, or at least doing an inordinately good impression of it. L, however, was not remotely tired, having slept half the day away. Of course, he knew he should try and sleep now in order to synchronise his and Light's body clocks, but the task was akin to asking him to devour a large portion of vegetable stir-fry; it was never going to happen.

After sitting in the dim room for about twenty minutes listening to the slow, regular breaths of his companion, L gave in and powered up his laptop. Reaching carefully over to the nightstand, he plucked the file Matt had provided from its resting place, and proceeded to leaf through it. Although he was unfamiliar with television, not actually owning one himself, the codes seemed fairly straightforward, reassuringly similar to computer encryptions, and he was confident that he could manage with minimal difficulty to tap into the network and broadcast his and Light's own message.

It had been interesting, preparing and planning the broadcast with Light. Light had more of an eye for detail than L did, and an unexpectedly artistic streak, so his contribution had been invaluable. He was also frighteningly good at planning ahead, anticipating every eventuality, exploring each possibility with impossible accuracy. L was better able to think on the spot, however, and had a latent ability for throwing people off, wrong-footing them in order to gain the advantage. Both of them combined, L admitted, made a formidable team. But with somebody like Light, it was always a good idea to stay one step ahead. By the dim glow of the computer screen, L worked furiously until dawn came, making sure that his own plans were primed to perfection, ready to drop into place before Light could make his move. Only when everything was flawless did he allow himself to fall into heavy slumber.

At the office the next day, the looks he received from Aizawa were filled with even more contempt and disgust than usual, but L had adopted Light's habit of thinking ahead, and had prepared from home seventeen separate witness lists for the latest cases on the database for Aizawa to check over; that would take him out of the office for at least the next few days, leaving L free to do whatever he pleased, which was mostly tracking Light's movements.

Light had not noticed the tracking programme L had set into his phone, as L had expected. Drawing out his own phone and tapping into the programme, everything Light had done that morning, and his current actions, were listed on L's screen. The first number Light had called, it transpired, belonged to a furniture delivery store; Light was buying a television set for the apartment, something L himself had considered in light of their plans. Useful, not incriminating. The second thing Light had done was call Mello; the call had lasted nineteen seconds, so presumable Mello had not been amused at being called at nine fifteen in the morning.

L wondered for a brief moment whether he ought to be tracking Light. It was underhand, to be sure, and with someone like Light, there was no guarantee that he would not be discovered. But Light had lured him into this partnership with the hook of his past. It had been a gamble to use L when L was perfectly capable of turning the tables on him. Surely, it was up to L to outwit him and discover his past by any means necessary to protect his own interests. Unfortunately, this decision did not do him much good, since this seemed to be the limit of Light's activities. Perhaps the young crook had anticipated L's interference and was being very careful whom he called just in case L did exactly what he was doing. But really, this tap was at this stage merely a precaution; L knew enough not to need any further confirmation of Light's activities. Nevertheless, there was still one thing left to check up, and Light had given him the perfect means to check it. Stuffing his feet into his ragged shoes, L left the office to pay a visit to an old friend.

Since Aizawa was still out of the office when he returned, L took the opportunity to fall asleep on his desk, using his case files as a pillow and drool-catcher. He woke promptly at six, at which point he walked out with the dignity of a man with a hard day's work behind him. Unfortunately, the stifled snigger and hushed whisper from the secretary bruised this impression a little. The fact that he returned home to Light, clad in an apron L had not known he owned, and baking cookies in a warm, cinnamon-scented kitchen, cheered him considerably, however.

"I thought we could celebrate in advance," Light smiled warmly; it lit up his chocolate-coloured eyes with genuine feeling, and even the suspicious L did not think that the boy could act that well. He was genuinely happy, and seemed to harbour no doubts or suspicions about L's trustworthiness, as far as he could tell. If only L could feel the same way, this might even work out. He felt a little sad, almost nostalgic, knowing what hung between them, knowing that the smiles and the cookies meant nothing to Light.

"Although cookies are always acceptable, Light-kun, I feel it is a little early to be relaxing," he sighed. "We have only an hour in which to prepare."

"It's already set up," Light assured him. "All we need is to sit back and watch it unfold."

"It is also necessary to be prepared for the failure and to be alert at all times so that we may make a split-second response," L reminded him. "Of course the immediate access to home-baked cookies might aid this process considerably, so perhaps I may treat this as exceptional foresight on your part. However, it is important to stay focused."

"I know that," Light nodded emphatically. "But aren't you just a little excited? Tonight we're going to change the world."

L could not help but feel the same beguiling feeling of unfamiliar _something_working its way through his own veins, Light's beaming face kindling the futile hope that the pleasure was derived from working with him, being with him, but he was so used to being used, disliked, betrayed, that he was able to push it to one side, even in the face of Light's sparkling eyes and wide smile. It was not in his nature to do anything else, to try to persuade Light to forget whatever else he was trying to achieve and be with him forever as the gods of justice. Not even if he wanted to.

"Take nothing for granted," he warned.

Although L was almost immune to anticipation, at least in comparison to Light, who was practically bouncing up and down in the seat before the shiny new television, even he was entirely absorbed as the sitcom flickered and failed on the screen to be replaced with the elegant lettering Light had created spelling out the start of their message:

_Welcome to the new world_

He caught Light's eye for a split second and smiled at the young man. Let him enjoy the moment.

_Ladies and gentlemen, this is the first message to you from the society which promises you the safety and security of which you have long been deprived, at no more cost than your support and favour._

The writing on the screen lingered for a few moments, giving time for the message to sink in, before it faded out professionally, to be replaced with carefully cut footage collected by Mello's surveillance, showing mugshots of several criminals the two of them had researched, and short clips of their shady progress through life. Played over this was the electronically altered voice of L:

"Ladies and gentlemen, each and every one of these men and women walk free on the street to carry on their criminal activities. Every face you see has robbed, raped, abused or murdered, and they are allowed to walk free by the police of this country and of this world, despite this video evidence of their continued guilt. We do not believe that this constitutes justice, and we believe something must be done about it, for the sake of your security, and to make the world a cleaner, juster place.

"Criminals of this world, we now speak to you: your deviance from the law and your disrespect to humanity will no longer be tolerated. We ask you now; cease your illegal activities and hand yourselves over to the police, or we will judge you. Each on you will individually be judged, and offered a choice."

At this point, the footage ended, and more words appeared on the screen as L continued to speak.

_You will receive a choice: to surrender your liberty, or to lose your life. This is the price of crime._

As the words hovered on the screen, L's modified voice spoke coolly to the populace.

"We believe in the police's methods of serving justice. We do not wish to terminate the life of any human being. But we will not compromise. Every man or woman who commits an act of atrocity against the world will be brought to justice. If any refuse to bow to the system of justice, their life will be forfeit. Make no mistake; if you are guilty, we will hunt you down. Criminals, you have one week to hand yourselves over to the law enforcers of your city. This goes for all parts of this country, where we as of today hold ultimate jurisdiction. This is your warning, and it will be spread by tonight over every billboard in every city across the country. Ignorance is no excuse.

"If you continue to act in a way which contravenes the law, and you refuse to cease your activities or report to the police, we will consider your choice made, and your life forfeit. Be it a day, a week, even a year, we will find you.

"Don't you believe us?"

The words faded once again, and the man chosen as an example, Madarame Kamawa, appeared on the screen, his name hovering underneath the crystal clear footage of Kamawa's mean, weasely face as he hurled silent verbal abuse at a cowering victim; the footage was accompanied by a date. The date read three days ago.

"Madarame Kamawa, indisputably guilty of seven murders in the last four years, cleared by the courts despite this evidence, and under our extensive surveillance guilty of fourteen other serious crimes. Today, he was offered the choice we now extend to every criminal throughout Japan. He chose death. Regrettable though it is, he stands as a warning to others.

"We are an extensive and organised network committed to justice. We do not want to kill, but we are willing to do so in order to save lives. If you are a murderer, rapist, domestic abuser, paedophile or guilty of any other major crime, we are watching you, and you have one week to turn yourselves in or cease criminal activity. If you do not, your life is forfeit. Make no mistake, we have the power and the will to find you and cleanse this world of your presence."

L's voice paused as in the live footage, which L was monitoring as it happened, Madarame's brief, humane death played out to perfection. Several moments of silence followed, in which L imagined every person in Japan frozen in horror by what they had just witnessed, unable to take it in. No doubt at this point their sympathy would be going out to the man they had just killed.

"Ladies and gentlemen, do not be shocked by what you have just witnessed. We do not intend to harm the innocent, but to protect you from the ugliness in this world. We want to listen to you, and have opened a forum for you to post your opinions. You will not be a target for disagreeing with our ideals, but please, we invite you to take a look at our website. On it you will find footage taken in the last month of Madarame's many crimes. We hope that you will agree the world is a better place without him, and remember; he had a choice, as does everyone. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Seigi. Thank you for your time, and remember; we are watching out for your safety.

As the departing message ended, words appeared for ten long seconds on the screen:

_To the rest of you: you have one week._

With a flicker, the sitcom resumed, its canned laughter an eerie and misplaced sound after the message which was even now available to access online thanks to Matt and L's unrelenting work on hacking the net to establish a webpage for Seigi. Type the word into any search engine, and it appeared right at the top.

"Well Light-kun," L said to his companion, whose face was a mask of triumph and glee. "The cat is now decisively amongst the pigeons. I hope the ratio of birds to beast falls in our favour, or we may as well report ourselves bright and early to bloody Aizawa for sheer hypocrisy, and provide the handcuffs ourselves. Other than that, I think it went rather well, don't you?"


	9. Natural Justice

**Chapter 9: Natural Justice**

L examined with a sort of detached interest the play of expressions over Light's face. The young man was in a pose which would have been relaxed but for the tense energy radiating from him. His legs were crossed, one hand laid lazily across his knees, the other at his cheek, but L could see his foot jiggling rapidly, the rattle of his shoe against the table-leg no doubt mirroring the pounding of heart against ribcage. Strangely, he looked like an excited teenager rather than a suave criminal, but the false calm superimposed over the triumph and victory was more disturbing than it was becoming. L became more relaxed as it dropped away; Light turned to him to answer, and the happiness in his eyes outshone the glow of the muted television. It made L's own heart squeeze in his chest, although he tried not to acknowledge this inexplicable physical reaction. After all, the look was nothing to do with him.

"It went better than I ever thought it would," he enthused eagerly. "Lawliet, don't you get it? Every person in Japan will be talking about us. None of our alarms went off, nobody tried to shut down the programme. The killing went so smoothly it was unbelievable, almost as if Madarame wanted to die for our cause. People will be writing in from all over to praise what we have started! Everyone who believes in justice will come forwards to join us!"

L frowned a little as he continued to survey his companion. Maybe there was something in his chemical make-up which made it entirely impossible for him to trust another human being. Or perhaps it was because he knew enough about Light's past to know that Light had been one of the youngest criminal masterminds in history. The material point was that the naive joy in Light's eyes did not convince him one bit. If anything, it made him certain that Light was still playing him, trying to lull him into a false sense of security. Perhaps the boy was aware that L was keeping close tabs on him, and was attempting to mislead him. Still, he had no doubt that the excitement in his eyes was genuine, even if the words were a lie. Light had no idea that his clever flattery and subtle play of power was fruitless, and had been from the very beginning. Still, L played his own part.

"I do not need to point out to you, Light-kun, that there will inevitably be complications. Indeed, I believe that I would feel rather short-changed if the task of ruling the world was as elementary as this. Although people are, as a rule, fairly mindless, I will not go so far as to underestimate a majority opinion. If one person starts screaming, usually everyone else will too."

"What about the groundworks we've laid out over the past few weeks?" Light pouted. "You're spoiling the fun of the moment. Honestly, were you always such a pessimist?"

L looked at him.

"Yes," he deadpanned. He felt unreasonably angry at Light, either for trying to fool him with his innocent act, or for failing to take their job seriously enough, teasing him, being so relaxed around him, almost as if he was truly fond of him, truly excited to be doing this with him. Already a part of him was regretting getting involved in this venture when he could be lying face-down on his bed thinking about cake, no issues about narcissistic ex-criminals to interrupt his monotony. Somehow, now the time was almost here, it was painful to spoil his enthusiasm, to crush it all in the palm of his hand.

"L?" Light asked, sounding slightly perturbed. Perhaps his expression had betrayed him."Are you ok? It didn't... bother you, did it?"

"Did what bother me?" L asked flatly. Did he truly care? Was he making a mistake? Or was it yet another act?

"The, um... killing," Light phrased carefully. "I mean, we did agree, didn't we? To do this your way?"

"Madarame's death is not an issue," L replied. "Nor will the deaths of the next ten criminals we have picked out be any loss."

"What about..." Light trailed off hesitantly. Or in a very convincing impression of hesitation, L thought to himself.

"How many people have you killed, Light-kun?" he demanded suddenly, swinging round to fix his blank grey eyes on the surprised boy. After a brief flash of something in sepia eyes, they became unreadable; his tone changed faintly, becoming more mature, more alluring, almost as it had been when they had first met in Light's prison cell, like warm treacle. It hardened L's resolve.

"You already know that, L," he replied smoothly. L did not blink, or look away. Instead he leaned in further.

"But how many of them," he persisted, "did you murder with your own hands? How many pairs of eyes faded to black as you looked at them?" He widened his own eyes for emphasis, and enjoyed the shudder which ran involuntarily through Light. But Light recovered almost immediately, and folded his arms blithely.

"Isn't that for you to find out? Are you anxious that I'm a bloodthirsty fiend now we've got blood on our hands? How many have you killed, L?"

L was silent for a few moments; A's keen, pale face flashed uncomfortably behind his eyes for a few seconds, and the faces of fourteen other men, fresh in his mind.

"I've taken many lives," he answered finally. "But none who didn't deserve it. I'm just wondering if you deserve it, Yagami Light. Tell me honestly, how many lives have you taken with your own two hands?"

Light really was much too good at acting. If L hadn't been staring so intently he never would have caught the calculating flicker in his eyes a moment before they dropped to his lap. The arms unfolded and hung limply by his sides.

"I've never killed a man," he said dully. "Not like that. I've always had accomplices to do that for me. But I've spoken the order more times than I can count."

L knew he was lying. There had been a look in his eyes which told him that he knew what it felt like to watch someone stop struggling underneath you. He filed away the answer, the reaction, to add to the Yagami puzzle. It had been the hardest one he had ever assembled. But whether that was because of the difficulty of the pieces, or because of the face staring up at him as he put them together, he was not sure. But it was the final confirmation he needed. Now matter how much or little he might care, Light was still lying. He was still prepared to go all the way.

"This is the first time I've ordered someone's death," L said. "I do not feel anything." Light looked up quizzically.

"When was the last time you felt anything, Lawliet?" he asked. L didn't reply, instead flipping open his laptop to run through the websites they had set up. It was a good question. But he couldn't give the answer. Not whilst looking him in the eyes, anyway.

"I lied to you, Light-kun," he said to his computer screen. "We agreed that this broadcast would be the first introduction of our cause to the world. I've been planting information on the internet relating to seigi since the day we agreed on an objective."

Light sat rooted to the spot, evidently confused, so L continued.

"The day I gave you those encrypted files and we agreed which criminals to pick out, I only gave you half the information I found. The other disc of files I organised myself, and I've been killing off a criminal every day for two weeks." Now he remained silent, waiting for Light to respond.

"So this isn't the first time you've ordered someone's death," Light rasped finally.

"I told you earlier tonight to take nothing for granted," L said darkly. "I did not order the murder of fourteen people; you did."

He watched idly for Light's reaction; the younger man looked pale and furious, and he was obviously thinking at about three hundred miles per hour. Finally, Light spoke, his voice a measured, icy calm.

"I know too much about you for you to betray me, Lawliet; you're bluffing."

"I can assure you that I am serious. I admit, I would not have attempted such a feat had it not been for one criminal on my separate disc whose crimes I found rather interesting; Teru Mikami."

Light's face paled to a sickly white. L felt a sickening lurch in his stomach region, and he realised that even now he was half hoping he was wrong. Nevertheless he continued in a calm, dead manner.

"He wouldn't have caught my eye particularly, since his crimes seemed to be fairly simple; all the men whose murders he was convicted of were personal enemies of his. It was an interesting case, though. Reading it through, it was obvious the man had a strong sense of justice, even if it was rather twisted. He was an attorney, a prosecutor, trying to prove men guilty. When he lost a case, and a criminal walked free, he murdered that criminal.

"I wouldn't have thought twice about him, though, had I not come across his name just days before in a completely different context. The thing that interested me was that when I had come across his name for the first time, it was as a defence lawyer. I think you know who the defendant for the case was, Yagami Light. I found it intriguing that the man who defended you was convicted of multiple murders six months later. About the same time that your sentence was altered from life to death row, in fact.

"The link was not much in itself, since it could easily have been a coincidence. But after a little research into Mikami, I discovered that only once in his entire career had he acted as the defence; for you. This made it more likely in my mind that there was some particular connection between the two of you. Once I knew this much, your relationship with Mikami became far more significant since the Kira killings continued until about the time Mikami was arrested. Although nothing in the police reports links the two of you, it became clear to me that the two of you were intimately connected.

"The Kira killings began when you were ten years old; hardly old enough to be a murderer. So the only logical conclusion was that Kira was another person, at least in the start. And although I am not sentimental as a rule, I always thought that there was something innocent about your eyes, right up until you were about eighteen.

"I was curious about your past right from the start. You knew that, and you used it to tie me into your scheme. But you underestimated just how much I might be able to uncover. You thought that since the police reports do not link the two of you together, I would not be able to find out about Teru Mikami. But even you cannot lie with your eyes, Light. Once I had learnt Mikami's name, I tested you, and I learnt that there was somebody in the past you cared about deeply. Mello's careless words confirmed that you were looking for someone. It was his misconception about our own relationship that made him think perhaps you were no longer searching for Teru.

But I searched, and I admit that I asked Mello a few questions after our meeting with him to confirm what I suspected, although once again he doesn't realise he gave me the information. But I knew he must know; you yourself told me you had been acquainted with him since you were young. Clearly you were already questioning the traditional definitions of right and wrong, but you had never killed a man. Of that I am sure. But sometime in 2004, when you were eighteen years old, you met an older man by the name of Teru Mikami. Right about then, perhaps a few months later, he initiated you into his scheme of justice, and you condemned your first man to death as the second Kira."

"When did you talk to Mello?" Light interrupted, looking ashen but by no means defeated; he was still thinking.

"Yesterday, whilst I was supposed to be at work, I went to pay him a visit. I don't think he was very pleased about being woken up, but he'll recover. You had phoned him a little earlier. I assume you meant to ask about the search for Mikami you were conducting behind my back ,or perhaps request his silence in case I had discovered too much. Either way, I doubt you got much out of him. I told him you'd sent me around in person to ask since he hadn't replied to your call. I asked him whether he'd had any luck locating Mikami yet. He told me he was still searching, so I managed to confirm what I suspected without him realising anything. He told me enough for me to confirm you had known each other a long time, and that he meant a great deal to you. He told me, ever since you met Mikami, your entire attitude to the law changed almost overnight."

L paused, and took another look at Light's face. He didn't look beaten, but there was definitely a sign of deep emotional turmoil in the slight hunch of his shoulders and the whiteness of his lips.

"Did you love him, Light-kun?" L questioned in a gentler voice. "Did you love him enough to throw our partnership away when you found him, had I not got there first?"

Light looked at him, eyes hardening.

"Even with this, Lawliet, you can't take me down unless you're willing to come down with me," he said harshly. "I have evidence galore that the two of us have worked together."

"I am aware, but I have even more compelling evidence that I've been using our contact to solve the mystery of the Kira killings," L countered, slightly reluctantly. "And of course I had no knowledge whatsoever about the fourteen murders which you committed in the last two weeks."

"I don't understand," Light said in a clipped, even tone, "You said that I was sacrificing our partnership. You have no reason to believe that this is what I was going to do. It is you who is sacrificing our partnership. Everything we have planned, has been you and me, just the two of us. I have pressured you into nothing; everything was your own decision to make, and we could have been immensely powerful together. We still could be."

"Except that," L persisted, "this was a means to an end for you. Since you escaped, your main objective has been to locate Mikami. Am I not correct? I was just a useful pawn, a matter of broadcast was all about sending a message to him, that you are still willing to participate in his scheme of justice, even after he betrayed you."

"He didn't betray me," Light said harshly, and L knew that he had been correct. Although he and Light could have had something amazing, Light had already been spoilt by Teru's claws. Again something inside him he had not known existed chose that moment to shrivel up and die.

"You turned yourself in," L acknowledged, "but only to protect Mikami from being found out. And he let you."

"He defended me," argued Light.

"He lost on purpose," countered L ruthlessly. "He knew that a connection between the two of you was only days away from coming out after he had you help kill three consecutive people against whom he had lost cases, so he acknowledged the connection by defending you, but let you take the fall by yourself. Unfortunately, he was unable to resist the call of his supposed destiny, and he carried on killing criminals after your arrest and got himself caught. I assume since there is nothing in the evidence about you that you were never officially named as accomplices. You told me the FBI were involved. I'm sure it was discovered, but never proven, that you and Teru worked together. But since they could not prove it Teru was convicted of murdering only those whose cases he had lost, and the steepening of your sentence was made under some other pretext, so now that fact lies buried in history. Clearly you at least thought it could never be uncovered, or you would never have got me involved."

"It may be true that you managed to find out far more about my past than I thought possible," Light said slowly. "But if you linked the fourteen criminals to me and posted them on the internet, won't the police work it out and come looking for me here? I fail to see how you can disassociate yourself from this. Unless you mean to make the link yourself and arrest me, in which case there's still time to reconsider. We've set up the start of a new world here. I know you want it as much as I do. Can't we work together and forget the past? I admit, Mikami took me under his wing and turned me from a small-time vigilante into a master of justice, part of his Kira scheme. He gave my life purpose when I was still young and impressionable. But by the time I was arrested, it was my venture, not his. And I have evolved since then to more refined ideals. The only reason I was searching for Mikami was to ensure that he was not a risk to us. He is nothing to me anymore.

"Lawliet, I know what it must look like, but I'm not using you. I want this. I want seigi. And I want to work to achieve it with you. We're too alike not to work together. I know you must feel it too. Before I met you you were so bored of life's simplicity and its sordid stupidity that you barely functioned anymore. Isn't what we have here worth preserving? Can't you forget my past? I have."

Light was as sugar-coated as usual. He was correct, of course, that nobody could make the link between Light and the fourteen murders unless L divulged what he had discovered about Mikami. His foray into Light's past had turned up a rather useful fanatical ex-girlfriend, whose brain did not match her ardour, and who had been perfectly willing to organise the demise of the fourteen men under 'Light''s orders, with the promise that he would come for her as soon as her task was complete. Amane Misa had shown extraordinary cunning in arranging the murders – since she herself was one of Light's old contacts in show business, she knew plenty of people. Best of all, L had never met her face to face, but used the same voice distortion programme as they had on the messages, posing as Light. Although she had been upset at not hearing Light's voice, she had swallowed the lie about traces and done his bidding obediently.

However, despite this strong link to Light, only when his connection to Mikami's obsession with justice was unearthed would it be obvious that he had been behind the justice-motivated murders.

But L knew, despite Light's truly incredible acting skills, that what he was hearing was nothing more than the desperate flutterings of a butterfly caught in a collector's net. Much as he wished to believe what Light said, he had already surmised that Light could not tell a direct lie to save his life. Quite literally, he thought with grim, hollow irony.

"I apologise most deeply for betraying you, Light-kun," L said sadly. "Believe me, if I had thought for one moment that you were sincere, or that the happiness in your eyes was anything to do with me, I would have followed you to the ends of the earth in your quest for justice. But since you would only have cast me aside once you had found Mikami, it was mere common sense to defend myself and frame you. Whether he deserves it or not, I know that you are still in love with him.

"If I can offer you one thing; this publicity will result in a man-hunt all over the world for Mikami. Wherever he has disappeared to, I guarantee that I and the NPA will find him, and that you and he will see each other again in prison. We will both get the fairytale endings we were meant to get; you and your lover will die together in gaol, and I will become the most renowned detective in the country."

"And will that make you happy?" demanded Light. "I thought you made your own justice, let people go when you thought their case did not merit imprisonment. I was there when you allowed Aiber's family to keep the money he had stolen." His voice dropped to a heart-rending murmur as he uttered his last plea: "Can't you let me go?"

L's heart felt heavier than he had ever imagined it could. But even though Light's eyes were wide and sincere and beautiful, he had experience in being ruthless. And for him, although Light could not understand, his sense of right and wrong stood higher than his emotions. And he knew that Light and Mikami were too dangerous to be allowed to walk free. His eyes met Light's, and they told him the answer.


	10. At the End of the Tunnel

**Epilogue: At the End of the Tunnel**

L sat down at his desk and shouldered his bag onto the floor, ignoring the ringing applause which surrounded him like the walls of an asylum, especially the whoops from Aizawa. He had just watched Light being driven in the back of a high-security van to Tokyo West, and it did not put him in the mood for celebration. He kept his eyes to his desk, and fumbled under a small mountain of confetti for a bag of chocolate eclairs, preparing himself for the prospect of another forty years of hell-bent misery and boredom.

Half an hour later he switched on his radio.

An hour later, he had the smallest of smiles on his face.

Ten miles away from the prison, the truck holding Light Yagami had inexplicably come to a halt next to a slightly dented red Camaro, and four men, one blond, one red, one brunet and one inky black, had escaped by helicopter, and were even now heading for international waters with the police snapping fruitlessly at their heels.

L had naturally had no idea that Teru Mikami had been still alive, let alone that he had been hiding in Tokyo. Of course he had had no comprehension that the man would try and help his lover escape, or that Light had any other old friends in the area willing to lend a hand.

But he couldn't hide his smile as he ate the last chocolate eclair and screwed the wrapper into a little ball, flicking it at Aizawa's purple, outraged face. Light and his lover were together, and L himself could devote as long as he desired trying to catch them again. And the intolerably smug applause from braindead twerps had definitely ceased to plague him.

"What a terrible annoyance," he murmured within Aizawa's earshot. He did not care if he was believed or not. The future beckoned, and with Light and Mikami to outwit, he would definitely have plenty to think about.

THE END

**So that's it, the edited version which is hopefully slightly more satisfying. I'd love a review to see what people thought? **


	11. Author's Note revised

**14/8/10**

Ok, I get the feeling I majorly pissed off a lot of people ending the story so abruptly and, apparently, confusingly, so for those who care to know, I'm writing a brief explanation of circumstances.

I started this story a while ago with the intention of making it much longer, developing the relationship between L and Light and having their Seigi venture carry through with both of them working together to control the world (mwahaha). Unfortunately, I severely underestimated how little time I would have for writing this due to real life circumstances. As I hate to disappoint people by not finishing a story, I tried my best to come up with a brief but satisfactory ending. Sadly I guess a lot of people were understandably not impressed, since I had given the impression that things were just getting started. A million apologies, since it's inexcusable for a writer to screw over her readers.

I don't have the time or energy to write the story as it originally should have been, and I am happy with this ending as a twist at the end. HOWEVER, I realise that it was far too abrupt, since I really hadn't planned it, so what I will do for anyone who would care to read is go over the entire story and repost it with a few fairly minor alterations which will make the ending sit a little better. You know, a few hints and suggestions and so forth. If you look back, there are already a few there about a person Light cared about a lot, and had been searching for...

So sorry, thanks for those who were positive about the end, and I hope this will make you feel less short-changed!

**15/8/10**

So I worked my ass of yesterday editing the entire story to my personal satisfaction and I've just finished uploading the new and improved version which, hopefully, is new and improved. There may still be some imperfections or whatever, but frankly even thinking about going through it again makes me want to cry, so anyone reading this new version will have to tell me if anything is glaringly wrong with it or if any individual bits could be improved. I tried very hard to smooth the ending into the rest of the story, so if i achieved that to any extent I will be happy. I really hope this story will satisfy, and I feel really bad for not sticking to my original promises, but this is the best I can do for now to make up for it. If time miraculously allows there might be a L/Light sequel one day in which Mikami gets his sorry ass soundly kicked, but for now I hope you enjoy this story.


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